


2's my favourite 1

by alexanger



Series: We're Okay [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Background Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Background Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens/Eliza Schuyler, Background Theodosia Prevost/Angelica Schuyler, Dirty talk (kind of??), Genderfluid Jefferson, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Prepare for secondhand embarrassment, Some internalized transphobia, Transgender Alex, handjobs, imaginary threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas Jefferson is a barista; Lafayette is a ridiculously talented busker; Alexander Hamilton is arguing; Theodosia is the mom friend; Aaron Burr is taking double the courses to get through college in half the time, and he may or may not have two crushes - one on a barista, one on a busker.</p><p>Three AUs for the price of one. Enjoy.</p><p>[<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ggtg1eawMY4">Title.</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Burr rolls into his favourite cafe just after 8. His eyes are half-lidded and he’s bundled into his scarf and coat in much the same way he would be bundled into his duvet if he were lucky enough to be home; he’s been awake for an hour, but he very obviously would rather be asleep.

“Morning, Aaron,” the barista says to him as he approaches the counter. “Tuesday again?”

“No problem,” Burr says, fighting back a yawn. Opening his mouth seems to be the destruction of his defenses; he loses the fight, badly, and the yawn surges out with a vengeance.

“I’m telling you, you need to stop taking morning classes. Usual?”

“Y-y-yes,” is Burr’s response, staggered against another yawn.

“One of these days,” the barista tells him, in a voice that’s far too chipper for 8 AM on a Tuesday, “this is going to be way too much espresso for your dear little heart, and you’re just going to explode on your way to your lecture, and won’t that be a shame?”

“See, you say that, Thomas, but my caffeine tolerance is skyrocketing. By next month I’ll need a dozen shots.”

“I probably can’t legally sell you that,” Thomas starts.

“But you will anyway?”

“Well, yeah,” Thomas says. “Fuck the rules and all that.”

“Fuck the rules indeed,” Burr says as Thomas hands him a cup. He’s not sure what’s more overwhelming - the smell of half a dozen shots of espresso, or the way Thomas grins, leonine, the gleaming edge of teeth, that self-assured (or is self-centred more accurate?) tilt of the head, the shake of gorgeous fluffy hair that smells vaguely like lavender.

“See you in a couple hours,” Thomas says. “You know, most people don’t come to the cafe four times a day.”

“Most people aren’t taking nine courses a semester,” Burr says.

“Fair. Try not to die on the way to class.”

“I’ll do my best,” Burr promises.

He really should be paying attention as he walks to class, but Burr finds all he can focus on is the way Thomas blows him a kiss as he leaves the cafe.

 

On way out of his sociology lecture (sociology of deviance - his roommate took it last semester and recommended it, and while Alexander Hamilton sure seemed to connect with an entire class about how absolutely fucked up human beings can be, Burr considers it a colossal waste of time) he finds himself in the midst of a crowd of people who seem entirely too hyped to be gathered in the quad on a Tuesday afternoon. Burr downs the last of his over-caffeinated Americano and slips through the gap between two smaller groups of students, and he’s immediately face-to-face with a tall, bearded busker wearing what looks to be the stitched together corpses of a dozen French flags.

Burr has seen this busker countless times before. Everything is France-themed - he wears flag-printed clothing, his face is painted in red, white and blue, and his curly mane is tied back with ribbon striped in French colours. The act, Burr will admit, is pretty good, but the France motif is so over the top that he can’t help but feel extreme secondhand embarrassment every time he sees Lafayette, L’artiste Magnifique (as the sign proclaims).

It seems to be the end of the show. Lafayette is wrapping up - or rapping up, Burr might say, if puns didn’t cause him physical anguish. The whole act is rap, half English, half French, and all freestyle. He passes around a hat at the beginning of each show, and people write words on slips of paper and drop them in. Whichever three slips are pulled by a volunteer set the theme for the next verse. It’s always an interesting combination; as Lafayette performs on campus, he’s just as likely to pull an outdated meme as he is to pull highly specific technical jargon. Somehow the man always manages a stellar performance.

Lafayette finishes his verse, the gathered crowd roars, and Burr, despite the secondhand embarrassment, finds himself cheering as well. He catches Lafayette’s eye, and the busker winks and grins broadly. 

“That’s all for this afternoon,” Lafayette says, in an absolutely ridiculous and over-the-top French accent. “If you find it in your heart to help a poor starving artiste, drop a dollar or two into mon chapeau, s’il vous plait. Merci, merci,” he adds, as a few students toss coins and bills into the upturned top hat resting near his amp and sign. 

Burr reaches into his pocket for a bill, but instead of dropping it into the hat, he makes a point of approaching Lafayette and handing the money to him directly. He wasn’t prepared for the man’s dazzling height; Lafayette is clearly over six feet tall, and he has a broad, beautiful smile, almost too big for his face.

“Merci, mon ami,” Lafayette says warmly. He takes Burr by the hand, just for a second; usually slightly averse to physical contact, Burr finds himself wondering how to extend the touch.

He gathers himself to speak, and is horrified when what comes out of his mouth is, “are you really from France?”

Lafayette laughs. The sound is sharper than Burr expected, but not unpleasant. “France is my home. She completes me and holds my heart captive. America is beautiful, n’est-ce pas? But France is more beautiful still.”

“Ah,” Burr says. He isn’t entirely sure what else to say to that non-answer. As he fumbles for words, Lafayette laughs again and claps him on the shoulder.

“You are so shy, mon ami. I see you often come to watch my shows, always so quiet. Speak more. You have a lovely voice. Don’t waste it.”

Before Burr can think of a response, Lafayette is whirling away, chatting a mile a minute to other students and packing up his amp. Just as well; nothing Burr can say would hold a candle against that man’s clever tongue.

Instead, he checks his watch and starts on his way home. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll pass the cafe before Thomas ends his shift.

He tries very hard not to think about how sad it is that spending thirty seconds talking to one particular barista is the high point of his day.

 

“You missed Thomas by about an hour,” the afternoon barista says as Burr walks into the cafe.

“Oh,” Burr replies. He debates turning around and leaving, but he knows that would just make him look even more ridiculous - and it’s very likely the afternoon barista would tell Thomas about it, which just makes the whole situation even worse - so he forces himself to walk up to the counter. He opens his mouth to order and suddenly realizes he has absolutely no idea how to ask for the coffee magic Thomas works.

“I, uh,” he says, “I would like - coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Coffee,” Burr insists, very glad his skin is dark enough that the flush in his face doesn’t show.

“Like, drip coffee?”

Burr struggles for a moment, debating whether or not to ask for something more caffeinated, and settles on, “sure.”

“What size?”

“Yes,” Burr says. “I mean, large. Largest. Whatever is big.”

“You’re kind of a mess when Thomas isn’t here, huh?” the barista asks.

_ If only you knew, _ is what Burr wants to say, but he settles on, “it would seem so.”

 

Burr customarily gets home in the evening, which is right about when his roommate tends to fully wake up. Neither of them are morning people, but Hamilton doesn’t seem to sleep; he just has less awake moments and more awake moments. Evening is one of his periods of energy, which coincides poorly with the exhaustion Burr feels when he finally gets home at the end of the day.

“How was your day?” Hamilton asks, barely looking up from his laptop or his Monster.

“Tiring,” Burr says. “Yours?”

“I only wrote, like, a dozen -”

“Pages?”

“Thousand words,” Alexander finishes. “And I have this paper that’s due -”

“And let me guess, it’s supposed to be three thousand words -”

“Between two and three, yeah, and now I have to cut it by three quarters. How am I supposed to cut this down that much, Aaron?”

“What are you writing it on?” Burr asks, as he hangs up his coat.

“Legal versus social definition of immoral behavior.”

“God save us all,” Burr says, throwing himself into his favourite chair.

“Very funny,” Hamilton says. “Anyway, I feel as though I just really can’t condense it without losing many of the key arguments. I asked if I could go over the limit, but my prof told me that if I did, she’d stop reading at three thousand and grade me on that portion. So naturally I said that that in itself was objectively unethical behavior, and then I may have flipped over a desk, and long story short, I’m supposed to sit at the back of the classroom now, because she thinks I can’t argue with her there. Shows how much she knows.”

“As tempting as it is to prove that you’re smarter than everyone, maybe it’s a good idea to chill, just once? Just for a single class?” Burr suggests.

Hamilton looks confused. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’ll probably get a better grade, for one thing.”

“Well, yeah,” says Hamilton, “but then she won’t know how wrong she is and how right I am.”

“Ah,” Burr says.

“Anyway, I’m sure I can figure it out. Writing it is the easiest part! Cutting it down … well, it’s heartbreaking. Like, imagine your essay is your child -”

“How terrible, to hate my own progeny as much as I loathe essays -”

“Yes, you’re hilarious. So the paper is your kid, right, and you raise it and nurture it, and then one day some asshole’s all like, ‘it’s not good enough, blahhh,’ so you go, okay, and you send it off to get fucking slaughtered -”

“This is getting very graphic,” Burr says.

“And you wind up with this mangled corpse that’s, you know, missing three quarters of the body -”

“Dear Lord.”

“And then that’s just your kid now. All savaged and torn up, and then you have to have someone grade your dead offspring.”

“You have … quite the imagination.”

“Thank you,” says Hamilton seriously, evidently having chosen to interpret that as a compliment.

“As charming as all that was, I’m going to bed,” Burr says, staggering out of the chair.

“Shit, your wednesdays are killer, aren’t they? Good luck, dude,” Hamilton says.

“Thanks. Try not to blast your weird music too loud tonight?”

“You got it.” Hamilton grins and adds, “I’ll make you some coffee before you leave, if you like. I’ll probably be up all night trying to shorten this.”

“You are a saint,” Burr says. “Night, Ham.”

“Night, Burr!” is the cheery response. As Burr closes his bedroom door and collapses onto his bed, he hears the opening strains of one of Hamilton’s weird folk albums, and it takes what little energy he has left to be thankful that it isn’t vaporwave or a musical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are my first born child. let me cherish them. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)
> 
> [sorry this isnt kittenverse]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theodosia is the worst kind of mom friend.

Getting to the cafe at 8 AM is bad enough. Getting there at 7 would absolutely be worse, if Burr had enough energy to feel feelings about things anymore.

The coffee Hamilton hands him that morning lasts all of five minutes; he chugs it as he runs down the stairs and out of the apartment building, and immediately regrets it when he feels warm sloshing in his stomach. He tries very hard to focus on the idea of seeing Thomas again in order to take his mind off of the discomfort in his stomach. There’s more than just coffee sloshing going on; he gets this weird feeling on Wednesday mornings, almost like he’s swallowed a cantaloupe. It’s from too little sleep and too much work, but that comes with the territory of taking far too many classes for any one rational human being.

Still, the early morning is almost worth it if it means walking into the cafe and seeing Thomas standing there behind the counter, grinning sunnily at him.

“Wednesday again?” he asks, as Burr approaches the counter.

“You ask me that same question every day,” Burr says.

“Well, no,” Thomas says, “I don’t, because it isn’t Wednesday every day.”

“Alright, you ask me  _ almost  _ the same question every day,” Burr amends.

“Because you always seem to be able to answer it, no matter how catatonic you are.”

“That’s fair,” Burr says.

Thomas grins. “Since you’re asleep and can’t make any kind of decent comeback: I hear you like it large. Largest. Whatever is big.”

Burr feels his eyebrows shoot up so fast he’s surprised they don’t rocket straight off his face. “What?” he manages.

“Yeah, Millie told me you came in yesterday and asked for something  _ big. _ Well, honey, I can tell you: I’m about as big as they come,” Thomas says, adding an absolutely disgusting wink.

“I beg your pardon -”

“Just look at me.” Thomas straightens up, squares his shoulders, and grins at Burr. He’s not wrong; he clears six feet and his chest and shoulders are broad and chiselled. Burr allows himself to take in the clean lines of Thomas’s arms, the way his waist and hips draw in, the sharp angle of his jaw, and swallows, feeling his forehead dampen with sweat under the brim of his toque.

“Yes, we all know you’re very pretty,” he tells Thomas, in what he hopes is a dry voice.

“I just feel as though not  _ enough  _ people know, you know?” Thomas says, slouching over to lean his elbows on the counter and put his chin in his hand. “Like, do enough people understand just how pretty I am? Should I make flyers and put them up around campus? Come to Cafe Jefferson, see how pretty the barista is -”

“It’s not Cafe Jefferson,” Burr cuts him off.

Thomas laughs. “Well, it should be. That’s how pretty I am.”

“So do I get my coffee, or -?”

“What, is that all I am to you?” Thomas pretends to wipe away a tear. “I mean, you could at least use me for my hot bod, instead of just using me for coffee.”

“Oh, my apologies. Oh Thomas, you beautiful man, please, put some caffeine in my cup so that I have the energy to admire your rippling muscles and abundant witticisms,” Burr says.

“That’s better! See, it isn’t that hard to suck up to me, is it?” Thomas accepts Burr’s travel mug and busies himself pouring far too much espresso into it.

“Complimenting you is not the hardest thing I’ll have to do today, no,” Burr admits.

“Good. I expect you to have written a moving sonnet dedicated to my beauty by the time you’re in here next.” Thomas slides the mug over the counter and adds, “dude, don’t even go for your wallet right now, pay me when you’re in here again in two hours. I can run a tab for you. I’d rather you just owe me than, I dunno, bite the linoleum when you trip reaching into your pocket for three bucks. Just go.”

Burr is determined, as he leaves, to blow a kiss back - but by the time he works up the courage, Thomas is busy with other customers, and he loses his nerve.

 

The highlight of Burr’s Wednesday afternoon is his modern novel class. He always shows up to the room freshly caffeinated and relaxed, and it helps somewhat that his one friend in the class shares his passion for well-written literature.

“Hey,” Burr says, sliding into his usual seat beside Theodosia.

“Hey,” she says back. “Did you bring me anything today?”

Burr hands her a cup of hot chocolate and digs in his bag for the cookies he picked up on his lunch break. “Yes, because every time I forget, you spend two hours complaining in my ear about what a bad friend I am,” he says, tossing the package into her lap.

“Children learn through repetition,” she says, with the air of one who has been suffering for years, although the image is somewhat broken by her shoving an entire cookie in her mouth and making a noise of barely-restrained joy.

“Don’t choke, Teddy -”

“I do what I want,” is probably what she says, but the words are so garbled that Burr can only guess at what she’s actually saying.

“How was your date?” Burr asks as he pulls out his notebook. “Was she cute?”

“Have I ever gone on a date with anyone who wasn’t cute?”

“Okay, you say that, but you could find something cute in anyone, let’s be honest.”

“No,” Teddy says seriously, “there are some people I absolutely cannot in any way find cute. Like, that weird dude in my women in media class last semester, George, he was fucking  _ bizarre.  _ Like, straight up admitted he was there to pick up girls. Nice hair, though -”

“Aaaand there it is,” Burr says.

“Shut  _ up. _ Just because he’s got that gorgeous natural blond doesn’t mean it’s cute, it just means he has decent hair for a pig.”

“Gross. So, you were telling me about the date?”

“Oh, yeah. Shit, she’s adorable. Absolutely fierce. Women’s studies major, of course.”

“Of course.”

“So we were going to see a movie, but all the movies playing were shit, and I decided I’d rather talk to her anyway, and we wound up going to a bookstore and playing this game - uh, it’s kind of hard to explain, but the rules were basically, find a book that’s completely centred around hetero romance, and then mock it viciously.”

“I wish I’d been there to see it.”

“Well, it ended with absolutely disgusting kissing, so you should probably be glad you didn’t have to see it. Anyway, she’s great, I like her a lot, I’m seeing her again. How are things going with the boy?”

“Uh,” Burr says, avoiding Teddy’s eye. “Which one?”

“Oooooooh.  _ Ooooooh,”  _ she hisses.

“Shut up, class is starting soon -”

“Oh, you’re not getting off the hook that easy,” Teddy says viciously. “I know for a fact you have a break after this class and you’re giving me all the details.”

Burr busies himself arranging his notebook and novel, doing a terrible job of hiding the tiny smile on his face.

 

“Okay,” Teddy says as they walk out onto the quad. “So you mentioned two guys.”

“I didn’t, actually. I said, ‘which one,’ as in there are multiple boys on the planet, and you cannot possibly have drawn anything from that, because to assume anything would be patently ridiculous -”

“Aaron goddamn Burr, I know that face you’re making, stop being annoying, tell me about the boys.”

Burr sighs theatrically. “Teddy, there are just  _ so  _ many boys that exist -”

“Do you want me to go hunt down your barista and tell him about your crush?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Burr says, half horrified and half intrigued.

“I will find him and I will tell him unless you tell me everything.”

Burr steers them towards the big fountain Lafayette usually sets up by. “You’re going to mock me for the rest of my natural life,” he says, a last pitiful attempt at delaying the inevitable.

“Well, duh. That’s what I’m here for. Who’s the other boy?”

Burr points to where Lafayette’s sign and amp stand. The busker himself is busy hooking up his mic and chatting up the crowd.

“No,” gasps Teddy in horrified glee. “You have to be joking.”

“Yes, I’m joking, ha ha, funny prank, are we done here -”

“Aaron, you are just too precious for words - I can’t believe it, you huge dork, you’re in love with  _ France personified -” _

“Love is a  _ very  _ strong word and I’ll thank you not to throw it around so lightly, miss ‘I see someone taking women’s studies and swoon’ -”

“Women’s studies is an objectively sexy major -”

“Hello again!” Lafayette says cheerily, cutting over the bickering. 

Burr breaks away from the argument and manages a weak smile as he faces the busker. “Hey,” he says, with what could probably pass for a grin, if Lafayette doesn’t look too close.

“Oh, so you two already know each other,” Teddy says, with a smug look of satisfaction.

“Well -”

“Not exactly, mon ami, but I see him at my shows often - how you say, a regular.”

Teddy looks like she’s about to burst with glee; Burr is ready to dig a hole and wait in it.

“So you haven’t properly introduced yourselves?” she asks.

“No,” Burr says, “but -”

Teddy seems to know there’s nothing that follows that ‘but,’ and she cuts in, “this is Aaron, and he’s a  _ huge  _ fan. Absolutely raves about you. Like, just a couple minutes ago -”

“Yes,  _ thank  _ you, Teddy,” Burr says, cutting her off with more force than he thought he could muster.

“A pleasure,” Lafayette says, taking Burr’s hand. It’s not a handshake, not quite; it feels a little more gentle, a little more affectionate, but before Burr can figure out exactly what the touch is, it’s over, and Lafayette is reaching for Teddy’s hand and saying, in a voice that’s more ludicrously French than the entire country of France, “et toi, Teddy! Lovely to see you again.”

“Likewise, Laf,” Teddy says, and Burr pointedly avoids looking at the smug grin he  _ knows  _ has set up residence on her face.

“So now that I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance properly, you’ll be at all my shows, non?”

“Oui,” Burr is horrified to hear himself say, swept up in the patriotism. “I mean, yes. I’m here every day, so I mean -”

“Full schedule?” Lafayette asks.

“You wouldn’t believe how full,” Burr says, grateful for something neutral to talk about. “I’m here til 10:30 tonight, and then I have to go home and do all my readings.”

Lafayette pulls a disgusted face. “So you’re watching me instead of getting ahead with your homework?”

“I -”

“You must be a  _ really _ big fan.” Lafayette’s voice drops a little and he growls the last few words, his face dangerously far into Burr’s personal space. The accent is gone, save for a bit of an edge; Burr’s heart surges into his mouth, and he’s gripped, absurdly, by how easy it would be to lean forward, close that distance, and kiss the annoying paint right off of Lafayette’s face.

“I have words for you,” Teddy cuts in, and Burr is furious, just for a moment, before he realizes how glad he is she stopped him from doing something impulsive and embarrassing.

Lafayette holds out his hand; Burr is captivated by his long fingers and the veins standing out on his forearms. He is suddenly, viciously jealous of the little scraps of paper Teddy puts in the palm of that hand.

Laf flicks through them as he excuses himself and walks back to his equipment. One of the pieces of paper catches his eye, and he pauses. Burr sees a smile light up his face and he tucks the paper into the pocket of his red/white/blue parachute pants.

“Teddy,” Burr says, feeling mild panic rise in him. “Please tell me you didn’t do what I know you just did. Please don’t tell me you wrote my number on there.”

“Oops,” Teddy says innocently.

Burr wonders if it’s too late to restart his entire life.

 

Lafayette blows Burr a kiss after the show. Burr wriggles deeper into his scarf, but he can’t resist dropping a ten in the hat.

“See you tomorrow,” Lafayette calls to Burr as he and Teddy walk away.

“So I’m going to throw you into that fountain,” Burr tells Teddy.

“If you can  _ lift  _ me, you’re allowed to throw me.”

Burr glances over at Teddy, who’s easily double his weight. She’s solid, curvy - what she refers to as ‘fat, man, come on, stop being so  _ gentle _ about it.’ “Okay, so I can’t lift you,” he admits.

“Nope. So you can’t throw me, making your point moot. Your phone is ringing,” she adds. “Ooh, maybe it’s your lover boy - how do you say that in French, Aaron? I bet you know, you’re doing that Duolingo thing, aren’t you -”

“Shut up,” Burr says absently as he checks his phone and finds a flood of texts from Hamilton.

 

**Annoying pork man:  
** hey is it cool if herc and john come obwr

**Annoying pork man:  
** over*

**Annoying pork man:  
** ad can you bring chips when you come home

**Annoying pork man:  
** i want nanchos

**Annoying pork man:  
** natchoes*

**Annoying pork man:  
** cheesy chip magic*

**Annoying pork man:  
** also if youget home and im in the shower just ignore ig

**Annoying pork man:  
** it*

**Annoying pork man:  
** it being me and john shhhhhhhh

 

“Ask him if he has any condoms,” Teddy says.

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” she says, snatching his phone out of his hand. “Yoink,” she adds.

“Saying ‘yoink’ does not make it not theft!”

“Hush,” she tells him. “I’m momming.”

 

**Me:**  
do u have condoms -<3 T

**Annoying pork man:  
** hi teddy

**Annoying pork man:  
** uhhhhh no[e

**Annoying pork man:  
** can you pick some up for me, health center has the flavored ones 4 FREEEE

**Me:  
** yep picking you up lube too make sure herc isnt too bored while yall are fucking put on a disney movie or something i hear he likes hercules

**Annoying pork man:  
** shut the fuck off

**Annoying pork man:  
** xo youre the best

**Me:  
** i know

 

“We’re getting them condoms,” Teddy informs Burr as she hands the phone back. 

“Is there any situation where you  _ won’t  _ try to make everything go the way you want?” Burr asks. Teddy links her arm through his.

“Nope. Speaking of fixing your entire life -”

“- yes, that was exactly how I phrased it, you’re amazing with your powers of repeating exactly what I say but in a slightly higher voice -”

“I’m getting some actual food in you, because I bet you haven’t eaten anything but cookies today, have you?”

“Cookies are an integral part of the food pyramid,” Burr insists.

“They are if you’re me, but you’re skinny, you have no padding on you, you can’t survive without some kind of decent nutrition. Skinny people have it rough, I tell you. I’m taking you to the dining hall.”

“And you’re using my wallet to treat the both of us, I presume?”

Teddy grins. “Ain’t it great to have rich friends?”

“When I get one, I’ll let you know,” Burr says. He kisses her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” she says smugly. Burr can’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> burr: i have feelings?  
> teddy: that's gay. im making things happen  
> burr: what thef uck
> 
> comments and kudos are an integral part of my food pyramid. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy is the best mom friend, but also the worst person. Burr suffers.

Wednesdays are the reason Burr is thankful his apartment is so close to campus. Teddy picks him up after his last class, carrying takeout; they walk the three blocks back to Burr’s place together, and as they pass by, Burr can’t help but glance at the cafe, closed and dark.

“You’re pretty gay,” Teddy says lightly.

“You’re one to talk,” Burr replies.

“Yes, but I _communicate_ with all the objects of my gay affections. Case and point, I kissed a hot girl on Sunday. What did you do on Sunday? I bet you have a barista sock puppet and you went on a fake date with it. ‘Ooh, mister barista man, please give me illegal amounts of coffee, does your dick taste like coffee, hmm let me find out’ -”

“His name is not mister barista man and I would be incredibly concerned for his health if his dick tasted like coffee,” Burr cuts her off.

“Okay, what’s his name then?”

“Not telling -”

“That’s a neat name. Not Telling, the barista. That’s gonna be weird when he sucks you off, you’ll be like, ‘ooh, Not,’ and he won’t be able to tell if you’re trying to say that you’re not into it, but in a really sarcastic way. That’s gonna be the most awkward blowjob ever.”

The conversation is rapidly slipping beyond Burr’s control, and he struggles to haul it back, but all he can manage is, “Who says I want him to suck me off?”

“Oh, okay, so you ask him out and then … don’t ever get laid? That’s a shitty deal. Aren’t you curious how good he is in bed? Does he have dick sucking lips?”

“Yes. No,” Burr stammers. “I don’t know, why are we talking about this, I hate it when you do this -”

“I’ll be picking up strawberry condoms for you next, honey,” Teddy says, fluttering her eyelashes. “Unless they make coffee flavoured condoms, and then I’ll just have to order ‘em in bulk.”

“I hate you,” Burr says, unlocking the front door of his building.

“You love me,” Teddy tells him. “I brought you a burrito. I’m officially your favourite person.”

“You’re my favourite until the burrito is gone,” Burr corrects.

“Wow, harsh. Guess I’ll just never give you the burrito.”

“Teddy -”

“Admit you love me or I keep the burrito,” she says. They’re almost up the stairs and she’s a little out of breath, but adamant. “And then carry me into your place, ‘cause I’m fucking tired.”

“Okay,” Burr relents, “I love you. But you are really, really annoying about my crushes.”

“Crushes?” Hercules Mulligan stands in the hallway, leaning against the wall just beside the apartment door.

“Is this gang-up-on-Aaron day or something? You have to stand out in the hallway all intimidating in order to make fun of me?” Burr asks.

“No, your roommate just sucks at not being loud when he’s having sex. Are those burritos?” Herc asks.

“I got one for everyone,” Teddy says.

“How about,” Herc suggests, “I take Alex’s, and John’s, cause they’ve been eating each other for like, two hours now, and I don’t think they _deserve_ burritos, because Alex had the brilliant idea of turning _Hercules_ on, in a repeating loop, before he disappeared with his boyfriend, and I don’t know how to work your fancy rich guy TV and I couldn’t turn it off.”

“How _cruel,”_ Teddy says, her voice rich with emotion, apparently having conveniently forgotten the movie was her suggestion.

“A fate worse than death,” Burr agrees.

“Anyway, you can turn something better on for me, Aaron. Be a buddy.” Herc throws an arm around Burr’s shoulders as Burr unlocks the door.

The apartment is a disaster. There are wet towels on the hallway carpet just outside Alexander’s bedroom, there’s shredded cheese in a bowl on the counter - not covered or refrigerated, Burr notices with a shudder - and Hercules is playing on the TV, almost loud enough to drown out the uncomfortable noises coming from Alexander’s room.

Burr knocks on the door. “I’m home, tone it down,” he yells.

“Tone your face down!” comes John Laurens’ voice from inside.

Alright. Not entirely unexpected.

Teddy slides a strip of condoms under the door and follows it with three flat single-use lube packages. “Play safe, boys,” she calls.

“Thanks mom,” Alex calls back.

Burr carefully wraps up the cheese and puts it in the fridge, which, unsurprisingly, holds nothing but mustard, mayonnaise, inedible food, and dozens of cans of Monster. Hamilton has apparently taken the time to arrange all the cans by colour in a rainbow, but not to get rid of the milk two weeks past its expiry date. None of that is shocking in the least.

“Dude,” Herc says, taking one of the burritos from Teddy. “Please change the movie. I am dying.”

Teddy comes up behind Hercules and wraps her arms around his waist. Herc is gigantic - he’s built like a wall, and monstrously tall. Teddy, by comparison, is just over five feet and about as soft as it is possible for a human being to be. Her face peeks out from under Herc’s arm.

“Don’t you just love this song? Go the distance with me, Herc,” she says, pouting her full lips a little.

“Mom, thank you for this burrito, but please never speak to me again,” Hercules says. “Dude, come on, there’s this kickass show on netflix about dogs with jobs, it’s called Dogs With Jobs, change this shit. Come _on.”_

Burr switches the input on the TV and hands Hercules his phone. “Use this to type in what you want. Don’t break anything and don’t open my email or my texts.”

“Ooooh, did the _boy_ text you?” Teddy asks, squeezing Herc’s waist.

“I hear there’s a boy,” Herc says, rather unnecessarily.

“There’s two boys,” Teddy corrects.

“No boy has texted me, just put your dog show on, I don’t care, stop talking,” Burr says.

His phone buzzes.

Burr lunges for the phone, Teddy throws her arms up and shrieks, and Herc leaps over the couch to keep the phone away from Burr. “Hey Aaron, it’s Lafayette,” Herc reads aloud. “Just wondering if you’re busy, what are you up to, heart heart, winky face - is that the eggplant emoji?”

“He sent you the _eggplant?”_ Teddy gasps.

“There’s no way he sent me that, give that back!” Burr scrambles over the couch, grabbing at his phone, and Herc picks him up around the waist with one arm while holding the phone away with the other.

“I’m texting back. Not much, just hanging out at home,” Herc says aloud as he types. “Thinking - oops, how do you type with keys so small - thinking about that hot … body …”

“Give that back _right now,”_ Burr says, surprised to hear how serious his voice is. Hercules, astoundingly, puts him down and complies, and Burr is relieved to see that the message he was typing remains unsent. “He did not send me the eggplant emoji,” he tells Teddy. “Hercules is just being crude.”

“Dude, an eggplant is an eggplant, you’re putting your own interpretation on it.”

“You aren’t good at being Aaron,” Teddy says. “Vague is not your thing.”

“Shit, dude, I’m bad at being a skinny little nerd? I’m _so disappointed_ -”

Burr pointedly ignores them both. He takes his time finding and turning on the show Herc wanted and settles on the couch, slowly typing out a response.

 

 **[Unknown number]:  
** Bonsoir, it’s Lafayette

 **[Unknown number]:  
** Wondering if youre busy, what are you up to

 **Me:  
** At home for the night. I’m not all that interesting.

 **[Unknown number]:  
** Really? Not sure if I believe that

 **[Unknown number]:  
** ;)

 

“Here’s where you flirt back,” Teddy says in Burr’s ear. Burr jumps.

“Jesus, when did you get behind me?”

“I’m sneaky. So, flirt back.”

“I know what to do,” Burr lies.

“No, you don’t. You’re like a toddler when it comes to boys. You are so lost without me. Flirt back.”

“You may as well do it if you know so much,” Burr says, and immediately regrets it as Teddy plucks his phone out of his hands.

“Yoink.”

“Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” Alex saunters out into the living room wearing John’s t-shirt and boxers. “Hey Aaron, did you bring me chips?”

“No, Teddy bought you a burrito. John too.”

“Thanks mom!” Alex kisses her cheek and peers at Burr’s phone. “Hey, who’s texting you?”

“Lafayette -” Teddy begins.

“Shit! I love that guy! Invite him over,” Alex says.

“No,” Burr says.

“Invite the boy!” Herc cheers.

“What boy?” comes John’s voice from the bedroom. He emerges as well, wearing Alexander’s boxers and one of his hoodies.

“Did you trade clothes on purpose?” Burr asks.

“What?” John looks down at himself and laughs. “Oh, shit. Hey, Alex, I got in your pants.”

The two high-five and Herc groans.

“Like it’s not bad enough _hearing_ you fucking, now I need physical proof -”

“Everyone shut up, I’m flirting with a boy for Aaron,” Teddy says commandingly.

Burr sinks down into the couch. “How did I forget you were doing that. Stop it,” he pleads.

“Nope! I’m getting you laid.”

“What the fuck -”

She hands the phone back and makes herself busy handing burritos to John and Alex as Burr inspects the damage.

 

 **Me:  
** Im more interesting in person. You should come over

 **Me:  
** Roommates and my best friend are here (and also my roommates boyfriend but we can make them behave)

 **Hot french guy for french kissing <3:  
**Sounds like a party, I can bring alcohol if you want

 

“You made him a contact,” Burr says disbelievingly. “With a disgusting name.”

“Hey, tell him not to come if he isn’t in costume,” Alex says suddenly. “He isn’t fun when he’s not being French.”

“Why did you invite him over -”

“Dude, don’t bring your sex hair near me,” Herc squeals as Alex sits in his lap with his burrito. Alexander makes a point of rubbing his head all over Herc’s shoulder.

 

 **Me:  
** Hey look, I’m really sorry but that was Teddy

 **Me:  
** I’d love to hang out but I have class really early tomorrow and lots of homework

 **Me:  
** Raincheck? Maybe we can hang out this weekend

 **Hot french guy for french kissing <3:  
**Hey, thats fair! Come watch my show tomorrow. Bonne nuit, mon cher

 

“You’re never allowed to touch my phone again,” Burr tells Teddy forcefully.

“Put a password on it then, nerd,” she says, sticking her tongue out.

“Guys? Alex is being gay,” Herc says from underneath Hamilton, who is making absolutely disgusting faces at John.

“That’s why I picked up like a billion condoms. Go,” Teddy tells the pair. “You have an entire night.”

“Thanks for the burrito, mom,” John tells her as they disappear.

Hercules heaves a sigh. “Finally, I can watch my dog show in peace,” he says, with the air of a man who has seen too much.

 

Burr feels himself being shaken out of a doze. “What,” he says, hoping his person-who-wasn’t-just-asleep impression is half decent.

“Herc wants to use the bathroom but Alex left his testosterone and his needles all over the counter and Herc is squicked by needles so can you clean it up a bit?”

“Why can’t you?” Burr mumbles.

“I also really, really, really, really hate needles. Please take care of it.”

Burr manages to get himself upright and check out the bathroom. Apparently, one syringe and two packaged needles constitutes ‘needles all over’; he picks them up and tucks them away in Alexander’s drawer, and takes the time to check himself out in the mirror. He looks absolutely wrecked - deep under-eye bags, haggard expression, and he’s breaking out a little. He brushes his teeth carefully and washes his face, taking care to focus on the spot between his eyebrows where he breaks out the worst. He knows he hasn’t been taking care of himself lately and his complexion is paying the price. “You’re the worst,” he tells his reflection sternly. His reflection stares levelly back at him. What a fascinating conversationalist.

“Bathroom is officially Herc safe,” he says as he leaves. “And I’m going to bed. What time is it?”

“Like, one,” Teddy tells him. “Want me to tuck you in?”

“Yes. You spending the night, Herc?” Burr asks as Hercules trundles into the bathroom.

“Uh, duh. Night, Aaron,” Herc says, closing the door.

Teddy links arms with Burr as he staggers to his room. Aside from a disaster on the desk - mostly textbooks and paper, but there are a couple empty coffee cups - it’s pristine and perfect, the way Burr likes it. The order soothes his nerves.

“Jammies?” Teddy asks.

“No, I’m too lazy, putting on pajamas takes effort,” Burr says, stifling another yawn. Teddy politely averts her eyes as Burr undresses and puts on a clean pair of shorts, and then settles in bed. She tucks his blankets up around his shoulders and kisses his cheek firmly.

“Night, Teddy,” Burr says, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Night, Aaron,” she tells him. “Need a wake up text?”

“Nope, I got it.” He snakes a hand out from under the blankets and squeezes hers. “You’re really fucking annoying sometimes, you know that?”

“Gee, thanks.”

“But I love you lots anyway.”

“Love you too, weenie. Sleep well,” she says.

The moment she turns off his light and closes his door, he’s asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos bring me burritos. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr fucks up a lot. Angelica appears.

Burr trips over Hercules as he leaves for class the next morning.

“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep on the couch?” he asks.

“Shit, you’re right,” Hercules says from his spot on the carpet. “I’ll do that next time.”

“You say that every time you sleep over.”

“And every time, I sleep closer to the couch. I’ll get it one of these days, dude.”

Snuggling down into his scarf, Burr takes the stairs as fast as he can without falling and breaking his face. He’s shivery and exhausted and desperately in need of something warm and caffeinated; six hours of sleep may be enough for a man like Hamilton - two hours seems to be enough for Hamilton, the absolute madman - but it absolutely is not enough for a man like Burr, who functions his best after ten hours and a bubble bath.

He timed his exit right; he walks into the cafe with half an hour before class and is glad to see the line is short. He smiles at Thomas, and when Thomas winks back, he feels butterflies rise in his stomach; the minutes drag out as the line stalls ahead of him. It feels like forever before he reaches the till.

“Good night last night?” Thomas asks.

“Hm?” The question catches Burr off guard. He thinks about the bags under his eyes, the wear plain on his face, and realizes Thomas must see he’s under-rested. “Uh, it was fine. It wasn’t, you know, a party or anything, but it was fun. My roommate’s friend watched a show about working dogs, my platonic soulmate bought burritos, and I fell asleep.”

“Damn, boy, that sounds like a party to me. Usual?”

“Give me an extra espresso shot in it today,” Burr says.

“Ooh, adventurous.”

“Adventurous, or exhausted? Possibly both. I suffer terribly.” Burr widens his eyes and pouts in what he hopes is an appealing manner.

It seems to work. Thomas laughs and reaches over the counter to pat his cheek gently. “Poor boy, you’re so hard done by. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, babe.”

Burr smiles before he can stop himself. “Good. I need a big, strong man to take care of me.”

“Shit, you came to the right place. I’m huge, gorgeous, and oozing testosterone. Once I flexed and everyone around fainted in awe. It was fucking amazing,” Thomas says. He winks at Burr, and Burr almost believes that last statement.

“Careful not to ooze any of that abundant testosterone into my cup.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I’m minding my own business dripping testosterone all over the place, and instead of saying thank you, everyone goes, ‘Thomas, clean that up, that’s disgusting.’ Well, you know, some people would pay good money for that.”

Burr thinks of Alex and can’t help but smile at the absurd image of his tiny, scrappy roommate wringing Thomas Jefferson out in order to sop up all the dripping testosterone. “Uncontained hormones are probably some kind of health hazard,” he says.

“Uh, yeah, health hazard as in everyone will collectively lose their shit over how attractive I am, and just be falling all over themselves to get a piece of this.”

“Yes, I know,” Burr tells him. “You’re very pretty, Thomas, absolutely breathtaking. This sounds exactly like the conversation we had yesterday.”

“Which one?” Thomas asks, grinning. “The one where I told you I was pretty, or the one where you came in and complained for ten minutes about your criminology prof, or the one where you came in near tears because you couldn’t find your mug, or -”

“Thanks Thomas!” Burr says, cutting smoothly through the ramble. “I needed a complete rundown of all of yesterday, especially the embarrassing parts.”

“Got your back, babe,” Thomas says.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you,” Burr tells him.

“Yeah, that’s what my ex said, up until the testosterone and attractiveness was too much. It’s cool though, now I don’t have to share my beauty with anyone.”

“Well, he’s missing out. What’s his name? I’ll subtweet about him or something.”

“Martha,” Thomas says.

Burr laughs uncomfortably and then stops, floundering for words. “Uh,” he says, “wow. Okay. Uh, I’m sorry, I assumed - I shouldn’t have -”

“No, no, it’s fine -”

“I’m sorry. Really,” Burr says.

“No, it’s actually okay -”

“I don’t know why I thought -”

“Just chill, okay? Take a deep breath.”

Burr gulps air and manages another strangled laugh. “Shit. Just, sorry. Shit. Like, fuck, you know?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Thomas asks.

“Well, uh, no, cause she’s dead,” Burr says, trying to be flippant. He realizes he’s failed when Thomas’s face crumples.

“Fuck, man, I’m really sorry,” Thomas says softly.

“No, it’s okay - I meant that more, you know, like a joke.”

“So she’s not -”

“No, I mean, she is. She is dead, and my dad is too -” Thomas makes a tiny noise at that and Burr scrambles for damage control. “But it happened way, way back, like, when I was little, so it’s fine, I’m over it, really. I get to pretend I’m Batman or Harry Potter or something. It’s a joke, it’s funny, we laugh now! Ha-ha-ha.”

“I’m really sorry, Aaron,” Thomas says. He slides Burr’s coffee across the counter. “Uh, I took up a lot of your time - you probably need to get to class -”

“Right. Yeah,” Burr says. “Um, I’ll see you in a couple hours?”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, but he sounds disconnected.

“Alright. Uh, bye, Thomas.” Burr walks to the door and turns to wave, but Thomas isn’t even looking at him.

 

“It can’t have been that bad,” Teddy says.

“Uh, yes, it can. Did you listen? I made a joke about my dead parents and he got all freaked out, and also he’s probably not even gay. Like, he dated a girl before -”

“Bisexuals exist? Pansexuals exist?” Teddy flicks his shoulder. “I’m standing right here, we exist -”

“Okay, but why wouldn’t he say that then -”

“Maybe he doesn’t feel the need to explain his entire identity every time he talks to some weird kid who buys too much coffee. Look, I’ll go with you and I’ll see what’s going on, okay? Give you an outside perspective. Besides, I want to meet your barista boy.”

“Okay,” Burr says, as they stroll in the direction of the cafe, “but don’t be weird. Don’t make it any worse, I already fucked up everything.”

But as they walk in, Burr doesn’t see Thomas’s face. He scans the entire cafe - not hard, as it’s on the small side - and sees the other morning barista and one of the afternoon baristas, the one who laughed at him a couple days before. There’s no sign of Thomas anywhere.

He approaches the counter, and the afternoon barista gives him a  _ look. _ “Hey, it’s Mr Big,” she says flatly.

“Uh, hi. Is -”

“He had to go home,” she cuts in.

“Is he - okay?” Burr asks.

“Yeah, he just gets really bad headaches sometimes. So he got a headache and went home. Do you want coffee?”

“Um, no, thank you. I’m alright,” Burr says.

“Thirsty,” she mutters.

Teddy bristles, but Burr pulls her away. “Not worth it,” he says, steering her out of the cafe. “I think she probably just decided not to like me a while ago.”

“Bet she’s moving in on your barista -”

“I don’t actually care. I just don’t want to interact with her any more than necessary,” Burr says.

Teddy wraps an arm around his waist and nuzzles her head against his shoulder as they walk. “Sorry he wasn’t there,” she says. “You disappointed?”

“Uh, a bit,” Burr admits, draping his arm over her shoulders. Teddy radiates warmth and he’s grateful for that small comfort.

“I bet he’ll be there tomorrow and he’ll be really happy to see you. Why don’t you bring him one of your weird tea remedies or something? What do you have that’s good for headaches?”

“I have this peppermint and lavender blend I make -”

“Cool. Bring him some of that. And it’ll all be alright. Okay? Promise,” Teddy says, squeezing his waist a little.

“Okay,” Burr says. Teddy smiles at him, and the smile is infectious; he can’t help but grin back at her, hopelessly adoring. “Why do you always make things seem like they’re going to work out fine?”

“Because they are. Let’s get you some coffee somewhere else, and then we’ll watch your French dude rap about physics or Pokemon or something, and then you can meet my girl tonight, okay?”

“That sounds pretty good,” Burr admits.

Teddy laughs. “I deserve a medal for being able to work all your problems out.”

 

Burr gets a sinking feeling in his stomach as he and Teddy approach the fountain. Lafayette is there, but he seems to pointedly be avoiding looking at Burr.

“So I fucked up with both boys,” he whispers to Teddy, “and I didn’t even get to go on a date with either of them. Am I just doomed to an awful love life?”

“Relax, Aaron. Just take a deep breath. You’re always the one telling me to meditate and find my centre and release my negative energy or whatever, so how about you take your own advice?” Teddy hisses back.

“So I just ignore him ignoring me? That sounds like  _ amazing  _ advice, Teddy.”

“Wave at him.”

“What?”

“Wave -” Teddy lifts Burr’s arm and pushes it into the air. “Wave at him. Wave hello.”

“I hate you,” Burr grits between his teeth as he complies. Lafayette looks at him, smiles painfully, and half-waves back.

“Ooooh.” Teddy’s lips draw into a thin line.

“What? He waved back -”

“Buddy, that … that wasn’t the greatest reaction. Uh, we can fix this.” Teddy releases Burr’s arm and he jams both hands in his pockets, wishing desperately for a half-decent latte.

“So what do I do now?”

“Talk to him, I guess? Let’s just watch him and then after you can talk to him.”

So Burr waits it out. He makes himself focus on Lafayette’s rapping, and when his thoughts stray or he finds himself paying a little too much attention to Laf’s body, instead of his voice, he jerks his attention back to the act and slows his breathing. There was a reason he joined the mindfulness club - it was all for moments like this, when a painfully attractive boy snubs you and you don’t even have a $5 coffee to drown your sorrows in.

_ You are the worst kind of rich person, _ he tells himself sternly.

He tries very hard to pretend that he doesn’t notice Lafayette is avoiding looking at him. Laf has amazing stage presence; he works the crowd, draws them in, and part of that charisma is making eye contact. He’ll pick someone to connect with, stare into their eyes for a few seconds, then find another person in the audience and switch his focus. Burr, up til now, has found that intimidating and overwhelming - he often had to look away. Now he wonders if Lafayette will bother to make eye contact with him at all.

He doesn’t.

As Lafayette wraps up and passes his hat around, Burr feels anxiety rising and clenching in his stomach. He knows Lafayette sweeps the crowd a few times; he works up his courage as Lafayette approaches, and as he opens his mouth, the busker changes directions and walks away.

“Ouch,” Teddy whispers.

“Please tell me that wasn’t that bad -”

“No, dude, I don’t know what’s going on but he’s definitely avoiding you.”

“Okay, you are really not helping me here.”

“Go talk to him. Give him money so he can’t turn you down.”

“What, so now I have to pay cute boys to talk to me?” Burr asks bitterly.

“Shut up, listen to me, I’m always right. Go.” Teddy shoves him forward and Burr stumbles towards Lafayette. He catches himself, steadies himself on his feet, and takes a deep breath as he approaches.

“Uh, hey,” he says, holding out a bill like a peace offering.

“Oh.” Lafayette turns and gives him another half-smile. “Hey.”

“Look, uh, I’m really sorry -”

“You don’t have to -”

“For cancelling last night, you know? I didn’t realize it would be this upsetting for you.”

Lafayette looks incredibly confused for a moment. “That’s - that’s fine,” he says hesitantly.

“No, really,” Burr says. “I mean, Teddy was the one who invited you, but I should have just stuck to that. I know it’s disappointing to get your hopes up, and then not … have them - fulfilled? So I’m, you know, I’m really sorry. And uh, please take this money, I’ve been holding it here for a couple minutes -”

Lafayette looks at the bill in his hand as though he’s seeing it for the first time. “Thank you,” he says, but his voice is lacking that warmth that Burr has come to expect. He takes the bill like he’s afraid it will burst into flames.

“Don’t you mean merci?” Burr says, with what he hopes sounds kind of like a laugh.

“Uh, yes. Merci,” Lafayette agrees, but the word is flat, and he turns away to pack up.

As Lafayette leaves, Burr walks back towards Teddy, who’s been joined by a girl wearing dangerously tall stiletto heels and a dusty rose coat that reaches her knees. In her heels she’s tall enough to rest an arm on Teddy’s shoulders; Teddy looks rapturous at the physical contact.

“How’d it go?” she asks as Burr joins them.

“Not well. I had to ask him to take the money,” he says.

“What did you  _ do?”  _ the new girl asks.

“You probably know just as much about it as I do. I’m Aaron, by the way.”

“Oh, shit, right,” Teddy says. “This is Angie.”

“Angie?”

“Angelica,” the girl corrects. “Angie if I decide that I like you.”

“Hey, everyone likes me. You can call me pockets,” Burr says. Angelica looks incredibly unimpressed, so he scrambles to add, “you know, because … I have money. In my pockets. That I use to buy people things.”

“Aaron, stop talking now,” Teddy tells him.

“No, no, let him keep going. I want to see how else he fucks up,” Angelica says.

Burr grimaces and burrows down into his scarf. “I think this is the point where I stop saying words.”

“You Burred that,” Teddy says.

“Shit, are we making me a verb now?” Burr asks. “It wasn’t even that bad! It’s not like when Hamilton -”

“We know why he’s a verb, you don’t need to scare off the girl I like,” Teddy cuts him off.

“Hamilton? Like, the dude my sister had that one class with? And he got in an argument with the prof, and ended up flipping a desk, so he had to sit at the back and he wound up sitting beside my sister and talking to her all class about the inherent inferiority of the banking system in America and all the ways to fix it -”

“That sounds like my roommate, yes,” Burr says.

“That dude is weird,” Angelica says.

“Tell me about it. Anyway, we’re hanging out with him tonight.” Teddy gently headbutts Angelica’s arm and is rewarded with a dazzling smile.

“I mean, he sounds like about the last person I’d want to spend any time with, but if you’re there, I’ll endure.” Angelica’s voice is honey-sweet and Burr makes a disbelieving noise.

“So you get nice Angelica and I get ‘I want to see how else he fucks up’?”

“The first thing Teddy ever said to me was, ‘those are killer shoes, your makeup is amazing, let me take you out on a date,’ and the first thing  _ you  _ said was that I should call you pockets,” Angelica says flatly.

“Fair,” Burr says. “Alright, fine. I Burred it.”

“Good boy,” Teddy says warmly. “Let’s take you away from the nasty boy who hurt your feelings. We’re getting pizza tonight.”

Pizza doesn’t cure the anxiety and distress twisting Burr’s stomach into knots, but it certainly doesn’t hurt. “Okay,” Burr agrees.

“I’ll pay,” Teddy adds.

“With my wallet?”

“You know it.”

“Thanks,  _ pockets,” _ Angelica adds venomously, and Burr has to concede he deserved that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos help alleviate my second-hand embarrassment (thanks, _burr_ ). chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Schuylers nickname Burr. Eliza meets John and Alex and they hit it off. Burr gets some advice that he completely disregards.

While the trio walks in the direction of Burr’s apartment, Angelica insists upon texting her sisters to invite both of them.

“That’s a lot of people in a tiny apartment,” Burr says half-heartedly.

“Eliza is small and Peggy will just sit on the floor,” Angelica says. “What, like I’m gonna go hang out with people and not invite my sisters?”

“Okay, but I have early classes tomorrow, I go to bed early -”

“Eliza doesn’t talk, like, ever, and Peggy knows how to shut up. Any other problems?”

“Is your girlfriend just commandeering my apartment?” Burr asks Teddy.

Teddy sucks in a breath. “Ooh. Okay, we haven’t used the g-word yet -”

Angelica smiles and kisses the top of Teddy’s head. “We’ll have that discussion eventually, I bet. Anyway, Schuylers are en route. We’re waiting here for them.”

“Do I get any choice in this?”

“No, the Queen is speaking,” Teddy says.

“Can we at least find a Starbucks or something?” Burr shivers. “Or sit somewhere inside one of the buildings?”

“They’ll be here in a minute -” Angelica breaks off and waves at two girls emerging from one of the campus buildings. They both wave back and stroll over, making no move to hurry up.

“It’s like they know we were waiting and want us to suffer,” Burr says.

“Hi,” says one of the girls. “Angie, are we eating on the way? I’m starving.”

“You just ate, Pegs.”

“I had a bag of chips, that’s not dinner. I’m Peggy, by the way -”

“Oh, I’m Eliza.”

“I’m Aaron,” Burr says, completely overwhelmed. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Aaron is rich and has pockets full of money,” Angelica says. “He’s buying us pizza for dinner.”

“I just ordered it,” Teddy says, brandishing her phone.

“Don’t you need my credit card to order online?”

“You say that like I didn’t memorize the number months ago,” she tells him.

“That would be very unsettling if you were literally anyone else,” Burr says.

“So, here’s the most important question. How many pizzas did you order?” Peggy asks.

“There’s going to be eight of us -”

“Oh my God,” Burr interjects.

“Which means six pizzas, because I know Herc will eat a whole one and then some. I also ordered bread things, you know, the things with cheese.”

“Cheesy bread?” Angelica suggests.

Teddy flutters her eyelashes. “You’re so smart.”

“Drinks?” Eliza asks.

“We can stop at a liquor store -”

“No alcohol, not tonight, we can get soda,” Burr says firmly.

The Schuylers all kick up a fuss and Burr suddenly has a crystal clear understanding of how it would feel to be trapped in a pit with a gang of disgruntled hyenas.

“We’re not in  _ high school,  _ Pockets,” Angelica says.

“It is a Thursday night and I have to be on campus by 8:30 tomorrow morning, which means up at quarter to 7, which means asleep by 10:30, and may I remind you you invited yourself back to my home -”

“Your friend Teddy invited me, actually,” Angelica corrects him.

“Alright, but you invited your sisters -”

“I’m starting to feel a little unwanted,” Peggy says, staring forlornly into the distance. Eliza heaves a dramatic sigh and presses the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Shunned. Insulted. Devalued, debased, degraded - Aaron, you clearly have no idea how to treat a lady.”

Burr looks to Teddy for help, but she’s quaking with laughter. “You got yourself into this, Pockets,” she tells him.

Long-suffering Burr graciously detours with the ladies to buy several bottles of soda, picking up the tab. Angelica thanks him by lightly saying, “very kind of you, Pockets.”

“You’re the best, Pockets,” Eliza agrees.

“You’re my favourite, Pockets,” Peggy adds.

“Someone help me carry these,” Burr says.

Peggy and Eliza take all the soda and allow Burr to lead the way to his apartment. Teddy and Angelica are clearly far too interested in each other to join the others in talking, but Eliza and Peggy seem to be brilliant conversationalists, as long as there’s someone they’re making fun of.

“So your roommate is  _ the  _ Alexander Hamilton?” Peggy asks.

“Yes -”

“Wow, how do you live with him?” Eliza asks. “He’s the desk flipper Pegs told us about, isn’t he?”

“He yelled at our prof about the word limit being  _ too low. _ Who does that?”

“Alex does,” Burr says, unlocking the front door and leading them up the stairs.

“So you either must be just as bad as he is -”

“Or a doormat,” Eliza finishes with an infuriating smile on her face. “And considering you just bought us more soda than we could drink in a week -”

“You must be  _ whipped. _ So how whipped are you, Pockets?”

“I’m not whipped,” Burr protests.

“Right,” Eliza says, “sure you’re not. We’re going to walk in the door, and you’ll take one look at him and go -”

Burr opens the door and Eliza stops talking as she makes eye contact with Alexander, who’s sitting on the couch with a bowl of dry cereal and cramming as much as he can fit into his mouth. The two stare at each other, completely silent, and then Eliza smiles and tosses her hair over her shoulder and says, “hey.”

“Hey,” Alex says through a mouthful of Froot Loops.

Angelica sniffs theatrically. “Did it just become a Disney movie in here? Because it smells like a Disney movie.”

“Who said Disney movie?” says Hercules, sitting bolt upright from where he was laying on the floor.

“It’s cool, Herc,” Alexander says, dropping a handful of cereal into his lap. Hercules accepts the offering and munches grumpily.

“You can’t say Disney around him, he’s sensitive,” Teddy whispers to Angelica.

Eliza is moving towards the couch like she’s in a dream. “I’m Elizabeth,” she says.

“Elizabeth.” Alex is enchanted. He reaches out and takes Eliza’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “What a beautiful name. I’m Alexander.”

“Alexander?” For a moment Eliza pauses, and there’s a struggle of emotion on her face - annoyance, just for a moment, which quickly succumbs to infatuation. “That name suits you. It’s so -”

“- many syllables?” Burr asks.

“So  _ masculine,”  _ Eliza coos.

“Elizabeth -”

“You can call me Eliza -”

“Eliza. Like that one girl from that musical. The flower girl. The one who has all the flowers. You’re like a flower.”

“I’m like a flower?”

“You’re perfection incarnate -”

“You have a boyfriend, dude,” Hercules tells Alex.

Eliza’s face crumples.

“This is why I date girls,” Angelica says to Teddy, as Burr rescues the soda from where Eliza and Peggy have dumped it on the floor and puts it into the fridge.

“Speaking of boyfriends, where’s John?”

“Napping,” Alexander says. He seems to be unable to tear his eyes away from Eliza’s face.

“I’ll wake him up,” Teddy offers.  _ “Someone _ needs supervision -”

Burr pointedly ignores the drama. “Make yourselves comfortable,” he tells the remaining two Schuylers as he settles himself in his favourite chair and pulls out his phone.

“Can you get me -” Peggy asks.

“No, the rule here is you get your own whatever you want -”

“- the wifi password?” she finishes with a smug smile.

“I got it, dude,” Herc says. “Gimme your phone.”

Burr tunes them out and texts Lafayette.

 

**Me:  
** Hey, look, I’m sorry to bother you but it seemed like you were upset when we spoke earlier.

**Me:**  
I don’t mean to pester you, but if there’s something I’ve done wrong, please let me know?

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
Its okay, I’m just not feeling well

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:  
** I really just need to rest

**Me:  
** Shit, someone else I know was feeling under the weather today too. Maybe there’s something going around. Do you need anything? Can I bring you tea? Soup?

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
Youre really sweet. Dont worry i’ll be fine

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
Everything cool between us?

**Me:  
** Yeah, of course.

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
You sure?

**Me:**  
Yeah! I thought you were mad at me, honestly.

**Me:**  
See you tomorrow?

**Me:**  
… hey?

**Me:  
** … okay.

 

John slouches out of Alexander’s bedroom, Teddy following close behind, and catches sight of the girls in the living room. “Hey,” he says, with his I-think-I’m-sexy grin.

“Dude, come get your boyfriend,” Hercules tells him.

John settles himself on the couch between Alex and Eliza and wraps an arm around each of them. “I heard you two were getting cozy,” he says.

Burr hears a phone buzz and lunges for his, but it’s Teddy’s. “Pizza’s here,” she says. “I’m gonna go get it. Aaron, help me?”

“Do you really need help carrying it?” he asks.

“Yes. Come on, Pockets, let’s go.”

Grumbling, he heaves himself out of his chair and follows Teddy. On the stairs, she takes his hand and squeezes. “You’re sulking about the boy, aren’t you?”

“What else is there to do on a Thursday night when your apartment is suddenly overrun by strangers and your roommate is daydreaming about cheating on his boyfriend who’s in the apartment as well? Of course I’m sulking about the boy.”

“There’s a song from a musical,” Teddy starts.

Burr makes a loud, drawn-out groaning noise.

“Shut up,” Teddy says. “Listen. This is important. There’s a song from a musical, and the song’s called Forget About The Boy, and the lyrics are,  _ forget about the fucking boy if he’s being a massive piece of shit who’s flaking out on you with no warning -” _

“Okay, I know the musical you’re talking about, those aren’t the lyrics -”

“No, okay, I’m taking liberties, but the point is, if he’s causing you this much trouble, forget him. He doesn’t deserve your sweet little bubble butt.”

“Hang on, doesn’t Millie end up with Jimmy in the end? She has this whole number about how she’s moving on and then halfway through the song changes her mind, and she ends up with him,” Burr says.

“That musical is also pretty much the most racist thing ever written, so some of the advice in it is probably fucked up,” Teddy admits.

“Then why are you using it to tell me what to do?”

“Because that one particular line is spot fucking on.” She pauses long enough in her tirade to accept pizza at the door and hands the stack of boxes to Burr. “Carry these and open your ears, honey. If he’s worth it, he’ll come to you. If he’s not, then you don’t need to waste any time on him.”

“Okay,” Burr says. He takes a deep breath and releases it and repeats, “okay.”

“Okay.” Teddy rubs his back as they climb up the stairs again.

“It’s just shitty, you know?” Burr says.

“Yeah, believe me, I know. Look, no offense or anything, but boys are garbage.”

“And how,” Burr agrees.

“So sometimes - a lot of times - you’re gonna find a boy who’s just really not worth you. That’s okay, Aaron. You’re allowed to feel sad about it, but you don’t have to let it wreck you. We’re gonna eat a bunch of pizza and watch trashy TV, you’re going to love Angie and she’s going to love you, and then at 10:30 exactly I’ll tuck you in bed and you’ll get a great sleep. Okay? Then tomorrow you can see your barista boy and focus on him. And if your hot French baguette comes around and realizes you’re way hotter than like, 99% of the guys on campus, then you can give him another chance,  _ if  _ you think he deserves it. But you don’t have to give him that chance. That’s up to you,” Teddy says firmly.

“Love you, Teds,” Burr says.

“Love you too. Uh, where’d your roommate go?”

They’ve both just stepped back into the apartment. Angie, Peggy and Herc are all lounging in various stages of sliding off the couch - Angie is mostly on the couch, Peggy is half off, and Herc has one foot up on one of the armrests - and Alex, John and Eliza are nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Pockets, wanna shove some pizza in my mouth?” Angelica doesn’t look up from her phone; she just opens her mouth. “No mushrooms,” she adds. Burr puts the stack of boxes on the coffee table and puts the crust of a piece of butter chicken pizza in her mouth. Angelica moves enough to grab the crust and shove what looks like half the slice into her mouth in one go, and says around it, “thanks, buddy.”

“That means she likes you,” Teddy says. “Okay, seriously, though, where did the other three nerds go?”

“Oh, they went to talk,” Herc says, making a sandwich with three slices of pizza.

“And - you  _ let  _ them?”

“Sister sanctioned,” Angie says through another mouthful of butter chicken pizza.

“True,” Peggy confirms.

“What’s the worst that’s gonna happen, anyway?” Herc says. “Like, they’re talking. I hope they’re alright, they seemed like they were in a rush to go into Alex’s room. Maybe John is upset?”

“Dude,” Teddy says.

“Dude,” Peggy agrees.

“Herc, they aren’t talking,” Burr says.

Hercules drags his attention away from his pizza explosion. “They’re not?” he asks. “What are they doing?”

Angelica looks up slowly from her phone and fixes Hercules with a stare. “Hercules,” she says slowly. “Did … did no one ever give you The Talk?”

Herc’s eyes go wide and he drops his pizza on the carpet. “Oh my God,” he says, his voice hoarse with horror.

“Good thing I got them tons of condoms,” Teddy says.

Burr feels a buzzing from his pocket. He pulls his phone out and his heart skips a little as he reads the message.

 

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
Of course, mon cher. 

**Me:  
** Sorry for the spam there.

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
It’s all good. I just dozed off. 

**Hot french guy for french kissing <3:**  
Going to bed. Goodnight, handsome. 

 

“What are you smiling about?” Teddy asks Burr.

He just shakes his head and holds his phone against his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [sister you're much better off without him](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZ1kW2bguiE)
> 
> comments and kudos fix the hollow ache in my heart. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angie somehow gives great boy advice. Burr talks to Thomas.

Burr settles on the couch between Peggy and Angelica when Teddy gets up to go to the bathroom.

“Listen,” he says. “I have boy problems.”

“Ohhhh boy, you are really, really not asking for advice in the right place,” Angelica tells him.

“She’s not lying,” Peggy says.

“No, I know. Look. There’s two boys -”

“One’s that busker guy, whatever his name is, yeah.”

“Yeah, and this barista -”

“Who is it?”

“Uh -” Burr swallows. “I don’t know if you go to the cafe on campus. You know, the one with the really fancy latte art. But the morning barista, Thomas -”

“Like, Thomas Jefferson?” Angie asks, grinning ear-to-ear.

“Why does your expression worry me so much?”

“He’s one of my best friends, Pockets - holy shit, you have a thing for TJ?”

“Wow, this is why I don’t tell anyone anything.” Burr starts to stand up but Angie pulls him back down.

“Nope, this is happening. Tell me all about your woes.”

“Uh.” Burr shrugs. “He dated a girl. Is he gay?”

Angie makes a noncommittal shrugging motion and shakes her head. “I have no idea, but you wouldn’t be his first boy, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay, one worry down. Is he avoiding me?”

“Why would he be avoiding you?” Angie asks.

“I went to get coffee earlier, and he was super weird, and then when I went back he was gone. And the afternoon barista said he had a headache.”

“Oh my God -” Angie digs in her pockets furiously. “No, hold on, he texted me this morning, and he was super freaked out, let me show you -” She fumbles her phone out and opens her messages and pushes the phone into Burr’s hands. “Look. Check this out, just read it.”

 

**Purple asshole:**  
ANGIE I FUCKED UP

**Purple asshole:**  
WHAT DO I DO I FUCKED UP

**Purple asshole:**  
i made a SHITTY JOKE AND HIS PARENTS ARE DEAD

**Purple asshole:**  
i can never talk to him again oh my god oh my god

**Purple asshole:**  
i have a headache im going home

**Me:**  
tj calm down whats going on

**Purple asshole:**  
ok you know the boy, the cute one whos in here like a billion times a day

**Purple asshole:**  
yeah i made some shitty joke and it turns out HIS PARENTS ARE DEAD and I BROUGHT THAT UP and hes never goign to speak to me again

**Purple asshole:**  
H U M I L I A T I O N my life is over i need to quit my job

**Me:**  
youre being a drama queen take a breath

**Purple asshole:**  
YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

**Me:  
** bet you $20 hed still kiss your face off

**Purple asshole:**  
ummmmm fuck you????????

**Purple asshole:**  
im going home and napping for the rest of my life

**Me:**  
dont die

 

Burr can’t help but laugh. “He kind of _was_ being a drama queen,” he says. “I didn’t realize he’d get that upset. Shit, I don’t even get all that upset over it anymore.”

“One time he tripped in front of his ex and went home and stayed inside for three days,” Angelica says.

“Oh my God.”

“I know,” she says. 

“He thinks I’m cute,” Burr whispers.

“Wow,  _ so  _ not the focus right now. We’re making fun of him and you have anime sparkle eyes about him liking you? Did you not  _ notice?” _

“No?”

“So, talk to him tomorrow,” Angelica says.

“That involves talking -”

“Do it, Pockets, or I’ll make you buy me dinner again,” Angie threatens.

Burr laughs. “If this works out, I’ll buy you dinner every night for a week. Can you talk me up? Drop a couple hints that I think he’s cute? Maybe let him know I’m really, actually not upset about this morning.”

“You got it,” Angie says as she texts.

Teddy comes back, wipes her wet hands on Burr’s shirt, and squirms between him and Angie. Angelica wraps an arm around her and kisses her forehead firmly.

“Miss me?” Angie asks.

“You know it,” Teddy tells her.

“That looks like it’s my time to go to bed,” Burr announces.

“Dude, no, don’t go, they’ll be making out,” Herc says.

“Peggy’s right there -”

“That won’t help,” Herc tells him.

Peggy chuckles. “He’s right. It won’t help. I have headphones and Angie doesn’t care.”

“Well,” Burr says, “I think they’ve earned a chance to make out. In someone else’s apartment.”

“Dude, we live with our dad. Not a lot of makeout opportunities,” Angie says.

Teddy grins. “And my mom lives with me, so. Thanks for letting us suck face here, Aaron.”

“Anything for you, Teddy. Night, everyone.”

Burr goes through the regular routine of putting himself to bed - brush teeth, wash face, change clothes, roll around in bed until he’s dizzy. He can’t put Thomas out of his mind - or Lafayette. He knows Thomas is a sure deal, now, if Thomas can get over his panic about dead parent jokes; but Lafayette is also flirty and fun, and a lot less self-centred, and Burr really isn’t sure he even wants to choose one or the other.

He wonders idly about how to make that work. Alex, John and Eliza haven’t materialized since stealing away together; he can’t imagine having a relationship that easily worked out. Or not a relationship, maybe it’s all just physical - but still, it seems so neat, so easy. Burr is not, by nature, a jealous man, but envy rises in him and he can’t help but wonder about what it would be like to be sandwiched between Thomas and Lafayette. One is muscular and rough, made of hard edges, like he’s been carved out of granite; the other is supple and fluid, like water. He imagines both mouths on him and before he realizes what he’s doing he has a hand in his shorts, wrapped around his cock.

He imagines Thomas’s teeth sinking into his shoulder, leaving bruises in the muscle; he imagines Lafayette’s hands, long-fingered and graceful, gripping his hips, his thighs, his waist, tweaking his nipples. He raises his free hand to his chest and ghosts his thumb against one stiffened peak and has to bite back Lafayette’s name.

He craves handprints, bruises, welts. He wants to be fucked, no ceremony, just two sets of hands on him, taking everything his body has to offer and using it hard. Burr does what he does so infrequently - he indulges. He lets himself imagine Lafayette’s hand trailing from his nipple down to his hips, and as he imagines he traces the paths he visualizes; he digs his own fingernails into the tender skin of his abdomen as he thinks of Lafayette doing the same.

“Thomas,” he whispers, and the name is fiery on his tongue, drawn out into a hiss. “Thomas, please -”

He thinks of Thomas doing what he’s doing now, jacking him languidly. His imagination is a flurry of hands and legs and cocks. Thomas, he thinks, will be big; probably thicker than Lafayette, who seems more yielding, more gentle. He wonders if they’ll want to fuck him.

He wonders - and he pushes the thought away, it seems too dirty, too desperate, and then he pulls it back and examines it - he wonders if they’ll want to fuck him at the  _ same time. _

Burr reaches his left arm out and fumbles on his desk for lube while his right hand slows on his cock. Time stretches out as he slicks his fingers - his hands feel clumsy, far too slow - and then he pushes a finger into his ass and has to bite back a moan.

“Lafayette, you have such big hands,” he whispers, so soft he can barely hear himself. “Be gentle with me -”

_ Of course, mon cher, _ the man in his daydream says, and he adds a second finger.  _ But not too slow - do you want us to be waiting forever? _

_ Are you going to be good, Aaron?  _ the imaginary Thomas cuts in.

“I don’t know if I can take both of you -”

_ Start with one. Start with me.  _ Imaginary Lafayette adds another finger, and so does Burr. He’s never taken three - it burns and stings, and he pushes back against it, testing his limits. The angle is awkward and it’s hard to reach but he wonders just how much of his own hand he can fit.

He imagines Lafayette sliding his hand out and replacing it with his dick. Burr fucks his fingers in and out of his asshole desperately, wary of going too fast - he can  _ hear  _ himself being fucked, he can hear the lube squishing and the heel of his hand connecting with his body - but almost too far gone to really care what anyone would think if they overheard.

“Lafayette, I’ve never had anyone inside me - you feel so good.” Burr pants and turns his head, stifling the sounds against his pillow.

_ Ready for me? _

“Thomas -”

Burr adds his pinky, and then, before he can adjust, he rolls onto his side and forces his thumb in as well. He pushes himself hard but he can’t get past the knuckles. That’s fine - it’s a stretch and it doesn’t need to be realistic, all that matters is -

_ Look at you, stretching for us. You like having two cocks in you, Aaron? You want us both to come in you? _

“Yes, Thomas, please,” Burr begs, in what he hopes is a soft hiss. He speeds up, fucking himself harder and pulling desperately on his cock, and suddenly he’s coming, slick and hot against the inside of his boxers, and he moans before he can help himself. As his orgasm pulses and shudders through him his ass clenches and forces his hand out; he can feel it contracting in waves in time with his cock twitching.

“Alex, no one needs to hear that!” comes Teddy’s voice from the living room. Burr freezes; if Teddy figures out it was him, she’ll know what he was thinking -

But Alex, bless his beautiful soul, calls back, “Sorry, dude, we’ll tone it down.”

“We weren’t -” Burr hears John start.

“Shh, go to sleep,” Alex says.

Burr waits until his breathing and heart calm down before he hops out of bed and peels his shorts off. He wipes his cock and hand on them and tosses them into the laundry. Every time he moves, he can feel the raw throbbing of his stretched asshole, and the slick slide of lube between his cheeks. He wonder what it would feel like to have semen, not lube, slowly dripping out of him.

He puts on clean shorts and gets in bed. For a moment, he struggles against his bizarre urge - and then he gives in and grabs two extra pillows, puts them either side of his body, and curls up on his side, snuggling between them.

“Goodnight, Thomas. Goodnight, Lafayette,” he whispers, trying very hard not to think about how absurd this all is.

Thankfully, he’s asleep before the embarrassment sets in.

 

Burr showers very, very thoroughly the next morning.

As he struggles sleepily through his morning routine, he finds himself strangely at peace. Usually mornings are a scramble; it’s hard to wake up on time, and hard to make sure he can fit all his grooming in before he has to leave. But he feels deep contentment in his body and his mind is quiet as he takes a few extra minutes in the kitchen to tip dried peppermint and lavender into a baggie and tuck it in his pocket.

“The way you’re acting, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got laid,” says Teddy’s voice from the couch.

“Did Angelica sleep over too?”

“And Peggy,” Herc says from the floor.

“Glad my apartment has become a hotel,” Burr says. “I’m going to class, eat the leftover pizza.”

“Have a good day, Pockets,” Angie mumbles.

Burr floats on the way to the cafe. Anxiety starts to rise in him, but he can let it go; it drifts away easily, and he wonders if maybe he just needs to jack off a lot more often.

Thomas is at the counter when he walks in. There’s an instant where panic is clear on his face, but it disappears, and instead he grins and says, “Friday again?”

“Yes, thank God. I’m ready for the weekend.”

“I’m not,” Thomas tells him. “I don’t see you on weekends and that makes my life way more boring.”

“I’ll have to come visit you, then,” Burr tells him.

“Don’t bother. I don’t work Saturdays or Sundays.”

“I guess we should go out on Saturday instead, then,” Burr hears himself say.

Thomas seems taken aback for a moment. “Yeah,” he says, his grin returning full-force. “I guess we should.”

“I brought you this,” Burr tells him, sliding the baggie of peppermint and lavender across the counter.

“Hey, nice, drugs -”

“It’s peppermint and lavender. You steep it, it’s tea, and it helps headaches. Lavender is calming, peppermint soothes tension and eases stomach problems. Lemon balm also works but I’m out right now. Let me know if you like it, and I’ll give you more when you run out.”

Thomas seems oddly touched. “That’s really sweet of you, Aaron.”

“What can I say? I’m a catch.” Burr is surprising himself today with how forthright he is, but he’s determined to ride it out; it seems to be working well so far. “I’d like the usual plus one shot, please. Maybe that’ll be my new usual.”

“You got it, cutie,” Thomas says.

“And Thomas?” Burr adds. “I want to talk to you about a couple of things before we go out. No, don’t make that face,” he says as Thomas frowns. “It’s nothing bad. It’s stuff about me, if that helps. Not about you. Promise.”

“Okay, but I’m holding you to that,” Thomas says. “Like, I’m serious. If you come in and spring some weird ‘Thomas, you fucked up’ on me, I’m gonna put  _ one  _ shot in your next coffee.”

“That’s fair,” Burr says. He takes his mug from Thomas and smiles warmly. “How’s your head today?”

“Bugging me a little, but I’m going to try this tea. Thank you,” Thomas says.

“You’re welcome. I’m late for class, but I’ll be back at 11 or so. I have an hour between classes - can we talk then? Can you take a break?”

“Yeah, I can take my half. Wait, I need your coffee back for a second.” Thomas takes the cup back and holds eye contact with Burr as he carefully presses his lips to the rim.

“You didn’t drink any,” Burr says as Thomas hands it back.

“No, I know. That’s a kiss,” Thomas says. “To hold you over until I get to do that for real.”

And if Burr thought he couldn’t get any floatier - well, he was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: im gonna write one entire fic without smut  
> me half an hour later: my hand slipped
> 
> comments and kudos are my headache remedy. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr talks to Thomas. Friday night is party night.

**Teddy bear:  
** I HAVE INFO FOR YOU

**Teddy bear:**  
ABOUT LAFAYETTE

**Teddy bear:**  
AARON PICK UP YOUR PHONE

**Teddy bear:**  
THIS WILL SAVE YOU SO MUCH HUMILIATION

 

Burr walks back into the cafe and Thomas is sitting at a table by the entrance with two cups in front of him.

“Hey,” Thomas says.

“Hey.” Burr sits across from him and Thomas slides one of the cups into his hand. “Thanks for the coffee. And for the kiss.”

Thomas smiles. “Thanks for the tea. My headache is gone. I didn’t know you could make tea out of lavender.”

“I’m a wealth of knowledge. How’s the morning been?” Burr asks.

“It always slows down between classes, and then there are little rushes every hour or so. How about you? How was class?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Burr admits.

Thomas smiles, looking entirely too satisfied with himself. “Yeah?”

“I made sure my lips were always where you put yours. What kind of lip balm do you use?”

Thomas laughs and says, “I use winter berry lip scrub and then a very light layer of strawberry eos.”

“So berry heaven. Got it. Anyway, I could taste it.”

“You want to taste more?” Thomas asks, leaning forward. Burr puts a hand on Thomas’s forearm.

“Before we do, talking.”

“Right.” Thomas looks slightly put out.

“Believe me, I don’t like this either, but it’s important. So I guess,” Burr says hesitantly, “you’ve probably figured out that I like you.”

“Yes, forever ago -”

“Thanks. Anyway, I should let you know, you’re not the only person I like right now.”

Thomas shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “So what’s the plan?”

“Uh - I mean, ideally, I’d like to go out with both of you. But if that’s not an option then I have to pick.”

Thomas is silent for a moment, nodding to himself. “Okay,” he says slowly. “I mean, I’m kinda the jealous type - but shit, I mean, we’re not official or anything. I don’t really get to make those decisions for you. Who’s the other person?”

“Um.” Burr laughs nervously.

“That bad, huh?”

“No, I just -” Burr takes a deep breath. “He’s really nice, but I also don’t really know him as well as I know you, and I know that, you know, some people might laugh, considering who he is -”

“Don’t string it out like this, just tell me who the guy is.”

Burr bares his teeth in a grimace. “Lafayette, the French rapper guy.”

Thomas is silent for a long moment before he bursts into bellowing laughter. Burr rescues both cups just as Thomas leans forward and smacks a hand against the table. He can see Thomas struggling for breath, gasping desperately before the laughter breaks through again, and before long tears are streaming down his cheeks.

“Okay, it’s not  _ that  _ funny,” Burr says.

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me - do you really not know?” Thomas wheezes through his laughter.

“Oh my God. Are you two dating or something?” Burr asks. The bottom falls out of his stomach and he puts down the cups so he can put his face in his hands. “Shit, I should have guessed -”

“You fucking  _ doorknob, _ Aaron, Lafayette is my  _ stage name.” _

Burr can feel eyes on him and he knows people are staring; Thomas’s laughter is raucous and booming and commands far too much attention. “Oh my God, put me in the ground,” he says softly from behind his hands.

“You adorable little shit.”

“No, don’t talk to me for a second, Thomas, don’t even look at me. Oh my God. This is the most embarrassed I’ve ever been in my life.”

“Did you actually not know?” Thomas gently takes Burr’s hands. “You are so, so sweet, you total doofus. Oh, honey. Okay, I’m not laughing anymore. I’m stopping.”

“You’re giggling,” Burr points out.

“Yes, I am. I’m trying to stop. Look, I really want to kiss you right now, can I kiss you?”

“I mean - yeah, yes,” Burr says, and before he knows it, Thomas’s lips are on his, and he can taste lavender tea and strawberry lip balm and a dark, unnameable flavour, something undeniably Thomas. He’s been fixating on Thomas’s full lips for months, but somehow he never realized just how soft they would be, or how they’d press against his so perfectly, how they’d make his spine go loose and fluttery at the contact.

Thomas breaks away and touches his forehead to Burr’s. “See?” he says softly. “Not laughing.”

“Not laughing,” Burr agrees.

“So since I’m apparently two different people, I guess that makes us a trio.”

“We haven’t put a title on anything -”

“Be my boyfriend,” Thomas says, cutting him off.

Burr laughs. “I guess I don’t really have any choice now, do I?”

“No,” Thomas tells him. “You don’t.”

“Okay. How did I wind up here, dating the guy who is the two prettiest men I’ve ever seen?”

“Wizardry, probably, mon cher,” Thomas says, and the growl of his French accent does borderline illegal things to Burr’s heart.

 

**Teddy bear:** **  
** AARON PICK UP

**Me:**  
So putting my phone on silent was a really bad idea

**Teddy bear:  
** yOU FUCKING LOSER ok listen lafayette and your barista are the same guy i talked to angie and we figured it out turns out alex knew the whole time and just didnt realize you were THAT OBLIVIOUS

**Me:**  
I know.

**Teddy bear:**  
what do you mean you know

**Me:**  
I asked him out and told him how much of a shithead I am and he laughed and kissed me and now he’s my boyfriend(s?)

**Teddy bear:**  
GAY

**Teddy bear:**  
GAY GAY GAY

**Me:**  
He’s coming over tonight, don’t embarrass me

**Teddy bear:**  
no promises

 

Thomas walks Aaron to the building his next class is in.

“I really, really don’t want to let go,” he says, squeezing Aaron’s hand. “Skip class and come hang out at work with me.”

“What, so we can make out on the counter and you get fired? No thanks. What time do you get off?”

“2, but then I perform for a bit here. Costume changes, face paint, you know? So then I need to clean up -”

“Clean up at my place, you can have a shower there,” Burr says. 

“Will you join me?”

Aaron feels his face flush and he hides his face against Thomas’s shoulder. “Maybe,” he says. “It’s not a no, but it’s not a yes. We’ll see how I feel, okay? I’ve never -”

“Showered with someone?”

“Dated. Anyone. Uh, ever.”

Thomas smiles, and it’s like sun peeking out through storm clouds. “You’re so adorable -”

“Go away, Thomas. I have class and you have work and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Text me,” Thomas says. 

“I don’t -” Burr catches himself and laughs. “I do have your number, nevermind.”

“Doorknob.”

“Go.” Burr kisses Thomas’s hand and drops it. He watches Thomas walk away, and just before he walks into his classroom, he sees Thomas turn around and blow a kiss.

He can taste strawberry and lavender on his lips.

 

Aaron and Thomas walk into the apartment and are greeted with cheers, alcohol, and cake.

“This is the weirdest surprise party ever,” Thomas says, clinging to Aaron’s hand.

“Congratulations on officially not sucking at relationships!” Teddy crows. She puts a party hat on Aaron’s head and hands one to Thomas. “I’d put it on you but you have your face paint on, you weird French nerd, and I don’t want to get my hands dirty.”

“Are you actually French?” Herc asks, from over a bottle of Sourpuss.

“Uh, no, but I spent a couple years there -”

“No one cares,” Angie says hurriedly. “Seriously, don’t ask him. You will never make him shut up.”

“Thanks, I feel really valued,” Thomas says.

Aaron guides him to the bathroom. “We’re de-Frenching him,” he announces.

“More like you’ll be Frenching him,” John corrects. Alex and Eliza both high-five him.

Aaron ushers Thomas in and then closes the door behind them. “Well,” he says, feeling awkward and unsure of what to do next.

“Well,” Thomas agrees. He puts a hand on Aaron’s neck, the pad of his thumb trailing along the line of his jaw. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please -”

Thomas kisses him again, and it’s different from this morning - it’s ferocious and hungry, and Aaron feels like he’s being devoured. He feels Thomas nip at his bottom lip; his mouth falls open in surprise, and then Thomas’s tongue is stroking his lips and pushing into his mouth.

He clings to Thomas like he’s drowning, managing to make soft huffing noises as Thomas holds him. The big hands he fantasized about roam over his body, tracing paths from shoulders to hips and back up.

“Aaron,” Thomas gasps against his lips, frantic, “tell me where I’m allowed to touch you -”

“Chest,” Aaron says. “Stomach, hips. Back. Maybe - maybe my ass if you’re just, just really careful about it, be gentle -”

Thomas settles his hands on Aaron’s hips and strokes gentle circles with the tips of his fingers, working slowly down and back. Aaron shudders and leans against Thomas as one hand palms the curve of his ass.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, but I might change my mind.”

“Whatever you need.”

“Kiss me?” Burr says this softly, hesitantly, and Thomas kisses him again. The second he feels Thomas’s tongue against his lips, his hips jerk forward, and he breaks away, embarrassed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m -” Aaron gestures down at himself. “You know.”

“Yeah, that happens. Me too.” Thomas kisses Burr’s forehead. “Do you want to stop?”

“Um - are you still going to shower?”

“That’s kind of a weird answer.”

“No, I know, but - I don’t think I want to touch you, and I don’t want you to touch me right now, but if you want to, you know, take care of yourself -” Aaron stops, struggling for words.

“Are you okay with me doing that?”

“Yes,” Aaron says, without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“Okay. Stop me if you need to.” Thomas strips his shirt off and Aaron reaches out to touch. He waits until Thomas nods, and then presses his palms against Thomas’s chest and kisses it gently.

“Shit, Thomas, you’re - wow.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “Uh, look. This is a really weird question, but we’re doing the honesty thing, right?”

“Yes, totally. What is it?”

“Can, uh, can you call me Lafayette? Just for now, it’s not, you know, a permanent thing, just -”

“Of course.” Aaron tangles his fingers in his hair and murmurs, “yes, Lafayette, I can do that. Look how handsome you are.”

Lafayette struggles for a moment, apparently searching for words. “Can you also, uh - you know what, nevermind, it’s ridiculous.”

“Nothing is as ridiculous as me not knowing you’re the same person as Thomas. Please tell me?”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Lafayette sounds anxious; he avoids Aaron’s eyes, fixing his gaze on the opposite wall.

“Yes. I promise. Please? It’s clearly important.”

“Okay, but close your eyes. I don’t want you to look at me when I ask.”

Aaron closes his eyes and leans his head against Lafayette. “Okay. Not looking. Go ahead.”

“Uh, instead of calling me handsome, can you use - you know - less masculine words?”

“Like what?”

“Shit, I dunno. Ones that aren’t so masculine?”

Aaron feels his heart jump with anxiety as words flow to his lips. He’s terrified of getting it wrong - but Lafayette seems agitated, his breathing shallow, so he opens his mouth and lets himself say, “like beautiful?”

Lafayette makes a strangled, desperate noise. “Yes,” he whispers.

“Pronouns?” Aaron asks.

Lafayette swallows and says, “I haven’t thought a whole ton about it -”

“So you don’t know, or -”

“They,” Laf says. “Or, uh, or, you know, she. If you want. And if you can’t use she, like, if that’s weird to use, that’s okay -”

Aaron feels confidence swell in his chest. He reaches up to Lafayette’s ponytail and tugs gently. “Got it. You get in the shower, gorgeous,” he murmurs. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Lafayette breathes. Aaron moves to turn on the shower, and he senses movement behind him; he turns around, one hand under the spray to test the temperature, and sees Lafayette standing naked, unbelievably tall, all knotted muscle and flawless skin.

“You -”

“Is this okay?” Lafayette asks.

Aaron swallows. “You’re perfect.”

Lafayette grins and unties their hair. “How’s that water?”

“Come check.” Aaron moves just enough for Lafayette to squeeze in close and feel the water.

“Perfect.”

Aaron kisses Laf’s shoulder and says, “hop in.”

He can’t tear his eyes away as Lafayette steps in, washes the face paint off and soaps up. Each stroke of those long-fingered hands over muscle is intoxicating; Lafayette obviously knows the power they have and plays up every single movement.

“You wanna get my back?” they ask, turning and wriggling their shoulders. Aaron pushes the shower curtain further back and accepts a handful of bodywash.

“This is unfair, you know,” Aaron tells them, rubbing their back in long, smooth strokes.

“How so?”

“Because you’re made of enough muscle for, like, five people, and you’re only two people at most.”

“And you get to touch me. Aren’t you lucky?”

“Oh, I thought Thomas was the conceited one -”

Laf chuckles, and the sound rumbles deep in her chest. “The conceit never goes away. I’m just better at hiding it when I’m feeling - you know - this kind of pretty.”

“Do you feel as pretty as you look? Because hot damn,” Aaron says.

“Okay, that feels really good -”

“Wait, wait, hold on. Look.” Aaron points at the mirror.

“What?”

“Are you looking?”

“Yes.”

“There she is,” Aaron says. “The most beautiful rapper I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Lafayette grins and wraps her arms around her chest, turning to rinse her back. “Gross.”

“Well, it seems to be having an effect on you.”

Laf looks down and makes a soft noise.

“You still want to take care of yourself?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” Aaron breathes. “Yes, I want to see you -”

Laf wraps a hand around their cock and starts jacking, and Aaron makes a groaning noise deep in his throat. He puts a palm over his own cock, laying his hand flat against his jeans, and even that much contact is almost too intense; he presses down gently, savouring the ache, as he watches Lafayette.

“Look at you, look how beautiful you are,” he whispers. “And you know it, don’t you? You know just how beautiful you are, Lafayette.”

“Aaron, s’il vous plait - n'arrête pas -”

“Have you ever been told just how gorgeous you are? You’re stunning - you’re ethereal - fuck, you’re so beautiful, Lafayette, and I love watching you do that to yourself.”

Lafayette whimpers and tosses her head back. “May I -”

“Yes, please, please,” Aaron says.

Lafayette grunts, a deep, growling huff, and spills over, trails of semen dripping down her hand. Loose and floppy, she sags against the shower wall. Aaron gently takes her hand and rubs it clean under the spray.

“Good girl,” he whispers. Lafayette stiffens and for a second, he worries he’s made a huge mistake.

“I’ve never had anyone say that before,” she says.

“How did it feel?” Aaron is tense, hesitant, but Lafayette heaves a deep sigh and squeezes Burr’s hand.

“I don’t want you to ever stop,” she admits.

“I think I can handle that,” Aaron tells her. The smile she gives him is the most dazzling thing he’s ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shout out to that anon who was like "they're totally the same person" and i was like "haha no way" [shit theyre on to me]
> 
> also this is not over, stick with me, i have more for you
> 
> comments and kudos are my substitute for 8 hours of sleep. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally eat the cake. Hercules is not good at euphemisms.

Lafayette steps out of the shower and into the towel Aaron is holding up for her. He dries her gently, peppering her cheeks with kisses; Laf makes soft noises of contentment and rests her chin on his shoulder, which requires a ludicrous bend in her spine to navigate the absurd height difference.

“Feel good?” Aaron murmurs in her ear.

“Mmhm.”

“I have body butter if you -”

“Yes,” Lafayette says before he can finish the question.

Aaron wraps Lafayette into a towel burrito and turns to sort through his drawers. “So, this is probably a weird question, considering what just happened, but relationships -”

“Yeah?”

“What are we doing? What do we do?”

Aaron finds a tub of body butter, and Lafayette drops the towel. She hums with satisfaction as Aaron scoops some into his hand, works it warm between his palms and smooths it over her back, rubbing his thumbs against the knotted muscle and against the curve of her spine. “That’s a pretty big question,” she says. “Cute dates? Kissing? Cuddling? You keep coming to the cafe four times a day, and I’ll draw hearts in the foam on your lattes. Texts that say things like, ‘thinking about you, muffinbear,’ and then you get distracted in class and your grades take a dive. Stuff like that.”

“Okay, aside from my grades going down, that sounds pretty nice.”

“I’m a relationship master,” Lafayette says.

Aaron kisses Lafayette’s back, between her shoulder blades, and says, “clearly. Ready to get dressed, go out there, and face seven drunk students who are going to mock me mercilessly for my inability to recognize when two people are the same person?”

“Yes, but -” She hesitates for a moment, pointedly avoiding eye contact. “In front of other people, can we stick with the name Thomas? And he pronouns? I don’t really want to, you know, get into that whole discussion, and it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Of course. Get dressed,” Aaron says.

“That’s it? No weirding out?”

“No, but we need to have a talk about that later.”

Lafayette groans. “Wow, you really like the whole talking thing, don’t you?”

“Not really, but it’s good for you. Humour me?” Aaron flutters his eyelashes, and Lafayette laughs, albeit grumpily, as she pulls her clothes on.

“Alright,” she says. “But only because you’re cute.”

 

Fully dressed, Thomas emerges from the bathroom with Aaron following close behind. Thomas’s hair is loose and fluffy, and with the face paint and ponytail gone, Aaron still finds it hard to believe he isn’t looking at a different person. The French parachute pants do help somewhat, he has to admit - it’s easier to reconcile the flirty barista, the one who wears all black aside from a red apron, with the flashy French artist, as long as he has some sort of middle ground between the two to look at.

“Did you miss us?” Thomas asks. His arm snakes around Burr’s waist and Burr leans back against his chest with a barely audible sigh of satisfaction.

“You dropped your French,” Alex says. “Put it back. You’re much more tolerable that way.”

“Listen, Hamilton,” Thomas starts, but Aaron cuts him off.

“The rule of the apartment is no fighting.”

“What if I need to wreck someone?” Thomas asks.

“Go outside,” Hercules says from the floor.

“Okay. Hamilton, meet me outside -”

Aaron pushes Thomas down onto the couch and then settles on his lap. “I slipped, sorry,” he says innocently. “I guess you can’t go outside and fight him unless you want me to get up.” Thomas grumbles a little, and Aaron continues, “do you want me to get up? I can get up.”

“No,” Thomas says meekly.

“That’s what I thought.”

Thomas bears his punishment bravely, with only a single muttered “Hamilton started it.”

“What happened while we were occupied?” Aaron asks.

Teddy, who is seated on the floor with Angelica on the couch behind her, says, “we started a rousing discussion about the benefits of various menstrual products. It was very educational and now everyone here knows way too much about periods, thanks to Angelica, who’s probably the vagina whisperer.”

“True,” Angie agrees.

Herc pauses in braiding Peggy’s hair and says, “they’ve been talking about their secret baby caves for like, half an hour -”

“Hercules!” Peggy says, sounding betrayed. “That’s so rude!”

“What?”

“You can’t call it a secret baby cave,” Eliza informs him. She’s tangled with Alex and John and luxuriating in having both of them rubbing her neck and shoulders, and her voice is softer than usual, gentle with contentment.

“Okay, there needs to be some kind of guide on what words you can’t use for secret baby caves, ‘cause a lot of other words sound  _ way  _ worse -”

“You can  _ say _ vagina,” Angie says.

“Yeah, but secret baby cave sounds a lot nicer -”

“This all comes back to sexism,” Teddy says, and Angie looks at her with delight.

“Preach,” Angie encourages.

“You know, there’s all these great words for penises -” Herc makes a disgruntled noise that Teddy diplomatically pretends not to hear. “Like, there’s dick and cock and even penis sounds fine, but all the words for vagina either sound gross or childish or crude. It’s ‘cause people don’t respect vaginas, or people who have them.”

“And vaginas are great,” Angie adds.

“I prefer secret baby cave,” Herc mutters rebelliously.

“What happens when I’m not in the room?” Aaron asks, completely bewildered.

“You gotta be in the room, dude,” Teddy tells him.

“Is it always like this? Thomas whispers in Aaron’s ear.

Aaron laughs. “I guess this is just something you’ll have to get used to.” He squeezes Thomas’s hand and presses a kiss to his cheek, and Teddy makes an absolutely disgusting cooing noise.

“The amount of gay in this room is getting ridiculous, and now it’s time for cake,” Herc announces. “Teddy said I had to wait because you weren’t here and you’ve kept me waiting for like, a year, and it doesn’t even take that long to wipe off face paint, so you’ve been withholding cake from me  _ on purpose, _ and I object to that, give me cake.”

“He’s right, it doesn’t take that long to wash off face paint. Were you making good decisions?” Teddy asks, giving Aaron the mom face.

“Yes, all we did was wash off the paint,” Aaron says, hoping very much that his face doesn’t give anything away.

“Your face paint is way too good then, dude. What brand do you use? When I cosplay it all sweats right off,” Herc says. “Are you using that pros aide shit? I tried it once, it stayed on like you wouldn’t believe, I had to scrub myself down with olive oil, I’m never doing that again.”

Thomas seems stunned. “I use snazaroo?” he half-asks.

Herc squints suspiciously. “That’s weird. It should wash off pretty easily …” He trails off, and his eyes slowly widen in horror.

“Wait for it,” Peggy stage-whispers.

Herc makes a strangled noise. “You weren’t just washing off your face paint!”

“And there it is,” Peggy finishes.

“Herc, get the cake, please,” Teddy says. Herc obediently stands to get the cake and Peggy goes with him for plates. The cake proves to be a good distraction; by the time the cake is on the coffee table and Herc is sitting again, the face paint seems to be the furthest thing from his mind.

“Nice, uh, cake,” Aaron says. The cake is covered in what probably used to be white frosting, but it’s been coated entirely in sprinkles to resemble the French flag, and on the top someone has written CONGRATION in red icing.

“You spelled it wrong,” Thomas points out.

“Do you want cake?” Teddy asks.

Thomas puts his hands up and hides behind Aaron. “Yes, I very much want cake. I think your spelling is perfect.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Teddy is basically everyone’s mom,” Aaron tells Thomas as Teddy slices up the cake and passes pieces around. “We all listen to what she tells us, and as a result, nobody dies.”

“That sounds like a good system.”

“I can’t believe my sister is dating a tactical mom,” Peggy says, She stuffs a forkful of cake into her mouth and leans back against Hercules, who rubs his stubbly cheek against her head like a huge innocent cat.

“Mom,” Alex says from where he’s tangled with Eliza and John. “Mom, please bring me alcohol. All of my limbs are being held captive by nerds.”

“You act like you want either of us to let you get up,” John says.

“I’m wounded,” Eliza says.

Teddy grabs her bottle of amaretto off the coffee table and hands it to Angelica, who hands it to Aaron, who hands it to Peggy, who stands up and carefully pours some into Alexander’s mouth.

“Alcohol delivery service. Nice,” Thomas says approvingly. “I could get used to your friends.”

“You say that like all of us haven’t already decided you’re our friend now,” Teddy says.

“Except me,” Alex adds.

“Be nice. I have alcohol,” Peggy tells him.

“Thomas is my best friend. More alcohol please,” Alex asks, in what is probably his attempt at an endearing voice.

Thomas just grins and says, “I’m next, Peggy.”

 

Angelica calls a cab just past two AM.

“You could stay again,” Teddy says.

“I wish I could, but we spent last night out and we should go home tonight.” Angelica kisses Teddy gently and pulls her into a tight hug. “Let’s do something tomorrow afternoon. Coffee and book store?”

“Sounds good. Miss you already.” Teddy nuzzles her face into the side of Angelica’s neck and peppers it with kisses.

“Miss you too, sugar. I’ll text you when I’m home.” Angie gives her a final squeeze and pulls back to take Peggy and Eliza’s arms. “Let’s go pass out.”

“Bye,” Eliza says, blowing a kiss to John and Alex. Peggy pulls Hercule’s stolen hat down further on her head.

“Next time we’ll bring Mario Kart over and I’ll kick all your asses. Night,” Peggy says. She’s the last out the door behind her sisters, and she wiggles her fingers in a wave. Hercules waves back.

“Take care of my hat,” he calls as the door closes.

“Feels weird without Eliza,” Alex says. John makes a face.

“She’s been around for, like, one night,” John tells him.

“Still,” Alex mutters.

Teddy gathers her things. “As much as I’d love to stay and listen to Hercules snore all night, I’m gonna go home too. I’ll come over tomorrow and help you clean up, Aaron. Here,” she adds, digging a handful of condoms and a new bottle of lube out of her bag. “This is for you.”

“Thanks, mom,” Aaron says. He shoves everything into his pockets and hugs her. “Text me when you get home and let me know you haven’t died on the way.”

“I live, like, two blocks away, I’m not going to die.”

“I’ll walk you,” Herc says. He wraps himself in the blanket that lives on the couch for the specific purpose of being there when he sleeps over and throws an arm around Teddy’s shoulders, drawing her into the blanket with him.

“Toasty. Night, y’all. Don’t get up to too much trouble!” Teddy winks at Aaron, who smiles back at her.

“Back in a few,” Herc says as they leave.

“Bedtime?” Alex asks, stretching his legs out and sprawling across John’s lap.

“Bedtime,” Burr agrees. “Thomas - are you spending the night?”

Thomas smiles uncertainly. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” Aaron pushes his fingers into Thomas’s hair and gives it a gentle tug. “But only if you want to.”

“I do -”

“Great. Let’s go brush our teeth.”

“Have fun,” John says, grinning obnoxiously.

Aaron digs up an unopened toothbrush and gives it to Thomas, and they stand by side at the sink in companionable silence. Burr takes his time about his hygiene; he brushes slowly and thoroughly and washes his face carefully, while Thomas finishes brushing in about thirty seconds and splashes water on his face before declaring himself done.

“Hey, Aaron,” Thomas says, his hand resting on Burr’s hip as Burr pats his face dry.

“Mm?”

“What we did earlier - was that okay with you?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I liked it,” Thomas murmurs. “Can we - you know - do more?”

“Let’s talk first, okay?” Aaron pulls Thomas from the bathroom and into his bedroom, where he starts hunting through his drawers, asking, “what do you wear to sleep in?”

“Uh - usually nothing?”

Aaron’s eyebrows raise. “That’s fair. I’m wearing something, though.”

“Also fair. I can sleep in my boxers, would that make you more comfortable?”

“A lot, yes. You can borrow a pair of mine if you’d like.”

“That sounds a little less gross than sleeping in the ones I’ve been wearing all day, thanks.”

Aaron tosses him a clean pair of shorts, and starts, “so, about your pronouns -”

“Uh, I said all of that on an impulse,” Thomas says, cutting him off. “Like, it’s cool if you want to use them, but it’s not really all that important.” He shucks his parachute pants and his boxers and pulls Aaron’s shorts on, and they’re almost too tight, hugging his hips and showing off the sharp lines of his hip flexors.

“I think pronouns are very important,” Aaron says, pulling his shirt off. He hesitates for a moment before pushing his pants and shorts off in one fluid motion, and hurriedly pulls on a new pair of boxers.

“Okay, but like, why would anyone take mine seriously? Or the name thing?”

“Does it make you happy?”

Thomas’s cheeks flush a little. “I mean, yeah.”

“Does it feel good?”

“Yeah -”

“Then I take it seriously, and it’s important. Can we talk about them so I know how to be supportive?”

Thomas pulls his shirt up over his head and sits on Aaron’s bed, and Aaron sits beside him. “Yeah,” Thomas says, “okay. I guess. Let’s get it over with.”

“Are you embarrassed?” Aaron asks.

“Who wouldn’t be? This is so weird -”

“I have lots of trans friends,” Aaron tells him, and Thomas’s face crumples.

“I don’t really - I don’t think I count. Like, a lot of the time I’m perfectly happy being a guy. It’s just that sometimes, you know, I’m not - I’m not, you know, I’m not  _ not  _ happy, but it feels better not being a guy. Just sometimes. Just for a while.”

“I’m sorry I assumed you used that word. But Thomas, honestly, if that’s the word you want to use, you count -”

“I don’t want to do anything to my body,” Thomas says. “I don’t want to change anything, except sometimes my name and pronouns. It’s not as important, it doesn’t matter as much. It’s just not as real as being  _ really  _ trans. I feel like I’m taking that word away from the people who deserve it.”

Aaron kisses Thomas’s shoulder. “If it’s real for you, that’s enough. It’s valid. When do you want me to use the name Thomas, and when do you want me to use the name Lafayette?”

Thomas is silent for a long moment. “I’ll let you know,” he says, finally. “But definitely Thomas at the cafe and Lafayette when I’m busking. Outside of that - I’ll let you know, okay? Like, I can text you a T or an L. And if we’re together in person, uh, shit. I dunno. I’ll tie my hair back if I’m feeling Lafayette. Does that work?”

“Perfect. And the names go with the pronouns?”

“He for Thomas, she or they for Lafayette.”

“Great. That’s everything I needed to know. Was that so hard?”

“Yes, it was,” Thomas insists. “And I’m really, really not ready to even start thinking about that word. I don’t want a label, I just want to let this be just, you know, whatever. It’s just me. If I label it, it’s different.”

“Okay. I’m not arguing with you,” Aaron says.

“I - okay,” Thomas repeats. He draws a deep, shaky breath.

“You want to be done talking about that?”

“Please.”

“Okay, subject change. In the bathroom you said you wanted more. What do you want to do?”

“I get the feeling you have way more boundaries than I do, so you tell me what you’re up for,” Thomas says.

Aaron smiles. “I don’t want to have sex. I think maybe I’d be okay with hands, but we need to work up to that really slowly. And I also want to let you know I might change my mind. If all that’s cool, then I want to start with kissing.”

“Of course it’s cool. I’m happy with anything, as long as it’s with you,” Thomas says.

Aaron lays back on the bed. “Come kiss me then,” he whispers.

Thomas doesn’t waste any time. He slinks up the bed, predatory, teeth bared in a grin, and as he reaches Aaron’s face, Aaron grabs an eraser off his desk and hurls it at the light switch near the door. The room goes dark and Thomas whispers into the blackness, “that was really, really impressive.”

“I was about a thousand percent sure I’d miss,” Aaron whispers back. He suddenly feels Thomas’s lips on the side of his neck and he gasps, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s chest.

“Feel good?” Thomas murmurs against his skin.

“Uh-huh -”

“I love hearing you make noise.” Thomas nips the sensitive skin and Burr groans. “I love knowing that I’m having an effect on you.”

“Please kiss me,” Aaron hisses, and Thomas’s lips press against his, hard, and there’s a hint of teeth tugging and nipping. Aaron opens his mouth and feels Thomas’s tongue slip in. His body is alight, his nerves singing, as Thomas runs his palms down his chest, down his stomach, down to his hips. Their legs are tangled; he grinds up against the hips pressing him down into the bed, and the pressure, the rasp of the material of his boxers, makes him grunt. The sound is lost in Thomas’s mouth but Thomas echoes it back, and then both of them are breaking apart to gasp, and teeth snap against Aaron’s shoulder and lips and tongue suck a bruise into the skin.

Aaron pushes his fingers into Thomas’s hair and pulls and Thomas groans against his skin, sucking another bruise into it, just below the first. His hips buck and Aaron feels his cock, hard and twitching, pressing against him.

“Can I touch you?” Aaron breathes. He’s nervous, he’s hesitant, but he wants to feel Thomas - he wants to know what it’s like to hold someone else in his hand and know that that point of contact is the most important thing in the world.

“Please touch me, Aaron,” Thomas whispers back. He nips Aaron’s earlobe and sucks on it softly as Aaron pushes the waistband of his shorts down and wraps his fingers around Thomas’s cock. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this; Thomas is big, bigger than Aaron, and the size difference is awkward. He can feel precome smeared slick across the head. Then he gives an experimental tug, and Thomas lets out a low moan directly in Aaron’s ear, and he suddenly understands this is is  _ exactly  _ how it’s supposed to feel.

He pushes Thomas over and rolls on top of him, so Thomas is on his back and Aaron is hovering above him, his hand stroking languidly along the length of his cock. “I don’t exactly have any kind of reference, given that I’ve never, you know -”

“Yeah -”

“But you’re  _ huge, _ Thomas.”

“Fuck,” Thomas groans.

“Wait a second.” Aaron gets up long enough to grab the lube from where he’d jammed it in his pocket and throws himself on the bed. He slicks both hands and wraps them both around Thomas’s cock, and then jacks both of them up and down in long, fluid motions.

“Fuck, Aaron,” Thomas gasps, and then Aaron changes it up, stroking one hand all the way down and releasing as the next strokes down to the base. As he hits the base, he releases and moves his hand back to the head. Each stroke makes Thomas shift a little, and before long he’s whispering, “you’ve got me so close already, shit.”

Aaron bites his lip, thinking hard, and then shoves his boxers down and presses his cock against Thomas’s, straddling his legs. “Let’s see how this works,” he says, and he wraps his hand around both of them and starts to pump. Thomas makes a strangled noise and breathes in sharply.

“Not gonna last much longer,” Thomas says.

“Wait,” Aaron tells him. “Wait, just hold on -”

“Aaron, please, I’m so close.”

“Wait,” Aaron tells him.

“Please -”

Aaron’s hand speeds up and Thomas cries out and spills over just as the first wave of Aaron’s orgasm hits. He shudders and leans forward, legs shaking as he tries to hold himself up, and when he looks up, Thomas’s teeth are bared in a snarl and he’s clutching the bedsheets. Twin spurts of come splatter all over Thomas’s chest, catching in the nest of hair there, and Aaron, curious, can’t resist trailing a finger through it and tasting it as their orgasms trail off.

“Fuck,” Thomas pants, watching him. 

“Mm,” Aaron agrees, savouring the taste on his tongue. “Mmhm.”

He flops down next to Thomas. Rolling until he can drop his leg off the bed, he feels around on the floor with his foot until he finds his t-shirt and scoops it up. He manages to pull the shirt onto the bed with his foot and uses it to wipe Thomas until he’s - well, not exactly clean, but at least not covered in semen. Both of them pull their shorts up; Aaron makes a soft noise at how sensitive he is.

“How’d that feel?” Thomas asks.

“Really good.” Aaron snuggles up, lying half on top of Thomas, and he feels huge arms wrap around him and hold tight.

“As first times go, that was a pretty good one. First time sex can be really, really awkward.” Thomas yawns, and Aaron can’t help but watch his mouth, remembering how those lips and teeth felt against his skin.

“Glad we don’t suck at this, then,” Aaron says.

“Mmhm. Me too. Night, cutie.”

“Night,” Aaron whispers, pulling the duvet over them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was way longer than i intended it to be. please note tj's talk about gender here is internalized transphobia. if youre trans youre great and valid. sorry i don't make the rules
> 
> comments and kudos are the reason i wake up in the morning. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr talks in his sleep. Alex ruins sofas.

Thomas wakes Burr up by getting out of bed as the sun limps over the horizon.

“Where are you going? Stop doing going,” Aaron mumbles through a haze of sleep.

“It’s day,” Thomas says.

“Doesn’t mean you have to get up. It’s Saturday.”

“I don’t do sleeping in,” Thomas insists. “I get up at 5 most days. Sometimes earlier. What time were you going to sleep until?”

“Ten? Eleven? Four?”

“That’s a waste of  _ at least _ five hours and you will not catch me missing this beautiful day.” 

“Come back to bed and I’ll give you a handy.”

“Done.”

Thomas wriggles back into bed and Aaron runs a palm down along the hard lines of his stomach. His fingers stroke the front of his shorts and Thomas’s cock begins to harden. There’s something painfully attractive about this - feeling a cock, not his own cock, stir in his hand, because of something he’s doing, and Aaron makes a tiny noise, one that Thomas echoes back. Aaron pushes Thomas’s waistband down and wraps his hand around his cock, feeling the weight of it in his hand, the softness of the skin, the ridges of his veins as they pulse.

“I can feel you getting hard,” he whispers. And he can - he feels the cock in his hand warming and stiffening as he works his hand along it. It goes from limp and soft to stiff and throbbing under his fingers and the foreskin pulls back, and as Aaron strokes his thumb against the frenulum, Thomas opens his mouth and whines.

“That feels so good, Aaron.”

“Mmhm.” Aaron cuddles closer and nuzzles his face against Thomas’s neck as he jacks him slowly. Every so often he stops to rub the head of Thomas’s cock, smearing pre over his glans, and he lets himself drift, soothing himself with the repetitive motion of his arm.

“Aaron,” Thomas says. His voice sounds very far away.

“Mm?”

“You falling asleep there?”

“No,” Aaron mumbles.

“Because you stopped moving, made an airplane noise, and then your hand twitched.”

“I’m awake,” Aaron lies.

“I’m just saying, you were out for like, a minute or two -”

“I was checking twitter,” Aaron says. He manages to get himself together enough to give Thomas’s cock a couple firm pumps.

“What twitter, baby?”

“The fuck twitter -” Aaron slowly becomes aware that he’s drooling and rubs his cheek against Thomas’s shoulder in an attempt to wipe it off, but only succeeds in getting his face damp.

“Fuck twitter?”

“Because if you get bad fuck reviews, you lose your clients.”

“That’s … that’s great.” Thomas’s chest quakes with barely-restrained laughter.

Aaron jacks a little faster and Thomas’s laughter segues into a soft moan. As Aaron works, he wakes up a little, and he starts grinding groggily against Thomas’s leg in time with the motion of his hand.

“Focus on the head a little more,” Thomas says breathlessly, and as Aaron’s hand changes position, he adds, “I’m getting so close, please don’t stop -”

“Wanna make you come,” Aaron mumbles.

“Just keep doing that then, baby, love the way it feels when you rub me like that - shit, Aaron, come on, a little more -”

Aaron tightens his hand a bit and rolls Thomas’s foreskin back and forth over the head of his cock, and then Thomas makes a choked noise and clenches his stomach and thighs, and semen is dripping hot over Aaron’s hand.

“Thank you, baby, that was so good,” Thomas pants.

“Going to the demon realization sensation party,” Aaron agrees, and he closes his eyes and passes out.

 

When he wakes up, Thomas is sitting up in bed and scribbling on a notepad balanced on his knee. Aaron’s head is on a pillow on Thomas’s other leg.

“Hey, sleepy face,” Thomas says. “You awake now?”

“No,” Aaron says. “I’m still asleep.”

“That’s a shame, because you’ve been talking for a while and I thought you’d like to hear what you’ve been saying.”

“I don’t sleep talk.”

“Uh, that’s a huge lie. I quote: ‘You can’t fuck the ukulele because it doesn’t have a hole’.”

“That’s just absurd, ukuleles  _ do  _ have holes,” Aaron says.

“That’s your objection to that statement? That it doesn’t have a hole, and not that, you know, why would you fuck a ukulele? What kind of wild dreams were you having?”

“I dreamed I was on a train,” Aaron says. “And one of the cars was a horse, but a really big horse. Or maybe it was a very small train. I had to ride it, but my shirts were all flying out of another one of the cars, and I wanted it to stop -”

“Literally nothing you were saying even tangentially relates to that. Like, you also told me that frogs don’t have gender at one point. Nothing about trains. Do you do this every night?”

“No,” Aaron insists. “No, I don’t.”

 

“Yes he does,” Alex tells them as Aaron and Thomas sit down at the table to finish off the rest of the cake for breakfast. “I hear him  _ all the time. _ It’s pretty good. Sometimes I record it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aaron asks in horror.

“You never asked. Man, you get loud sometimes. Like, it’s not hard to hear you through the wall.”

“One time you yelled,  _ ‘fuck  _ bees,’ and Alex almost peed himself laughing,” John offers from the couch, where he’s laying with a cup of coffee in his hand and a pack of cigarettes on his chest.

“You can’t smoke those in here,” Aaron says.

“I’m not smoking them, I’m enduring as they tempt me. Shit, maybe I’ll eat one. We have this conversation every week. Don’t change the subject,” John says.

“Another time you told a joke,” Alex begins.

“I want to hear the joke,” Thomas cuts in.

“It didn’t even make sense. It was like, ‘here’s a joke, once upon a time there were traffic cones,’ and then he just laughed. A lot. It was really weird.”

“I clearly need to spend the night more often.”

“Get earplugs,” John says. “Trust me. You will need them.”

“Oh, also, sometimes he gets up and does something, and then goes back to bed, and doesn’t remember it -”

“No I don’t, Alex -”

“ - like once, it was probably like, one in the morning, and John and I were on the couch doing, you know, stuff, and he comes in and starts cleaning the kitchen. Like putting away dishes. And I asked him what he was doing and if he wanted us to move to my room and he looked at me and meowed and then he just went back to bed -”

“Oh my God,” Aaron says.

“And that isn’t even the only time he’s meowed,” John says.

“Wait, hold on,” Aaron interrupts. “What were you doing on my couch?”

“Sitting, like a pure and innocent man with no ill intent,” Alex says.

“I swear to God, Alexander Hamilton, if your bare ass has touched my couch -”

“You should flip over the seat cushions sometime,” John says.

Alex turns to him and pulls a horrified frown. “Betrayal!”

“I need to deep clean the entire couch,” Burr whispers to himself.

Teddy lets herself into the apartment, notices the cake on the table, and sits down beside Aaron. “Thanks for cake,” she says as she helps herself to a chunk.

“Teddy, we need to go furniture shopping,” Aaron says to her. “Alex has defiled my couch.”

“What did you do to it? Was it the time you tried to see how many hot dogs you could eat and you got mustard all over the back -”

Aaron makes a strangled noise.

“There’s that, yeah, but there’s also the time he spilled cereal on it, and he was using chocolate syrup in the milk, and the chocolate made a huge stain,” John adds, and Aaron feels himself getting close to tears.

“Or the time we went to that convention and you sat on the couch with your body paint still on,” Hercules offers from the floor.

“There’s also the time I did my injection out here and I pumped the syringe while I was changing needles and sprayed T on the upholstery -”

“Oh shit, someone else who oozes testosterone,” Thomas grins.

“Oh my God!” Aaron puts his face in his hands and screams into his palms.

“Finish your cake, cutie, then we can go find you another couch.”

“And a tarp,” Aaron says.

“And a tarp, yes.”

“So Alexander Hamilton’s bare ass will never touch my sofa again -”

“I have hands with which to lift a tarp,” Alex tells him.

“Probably not helping your case, dude,” Herc says.

“Can we get real breakfast on the way?” Thomas asks.

“Cake is real breakfast,” Teddy says. “Don’t be ungrateful for cake.”

“Pretty sure my slice has a bite mark -”

“Oh, sorry, dude,” Herc tells Thomas. “That was me. Cake calls and who am I to resist the siren song?”

“Okay, let’s go,” Aaron sighs. Thomas hands his plate of cake to Hercules without a word.

 

“Is the safe space open today?” Aaron asks Teddy as they leave the building. He leaves his hands open at his sides instead of jamming them into his pockets, and is rewarded when Thomas takes his hand and squeezes firmly.

“Like, rainbow club or women’s space? Women’s space always has someone there, but rainbow club might not be open.”

“Rainbow club,” Aaron says.

“That sounds like a cool place,” Thomas says vaguely.

“Might be? Angie would probably know, want me to text her?”

“Nah,” Aaron says. “We’re walking by anyway. We can look as we go by, and if they’re closed, they’re closed.”

“After anything in particular, or do you have a sudden urge to let everyone know you’re ultra gay and did gay things -”

“It’s not my business, but I’m checking something for a friend.”

Teddy immediately turns to Thomas. “Alright, big guy, what do you need?”

“How do you know it’s me?”

“Aaron just said the word ‘friend’ and wasn’t referring to me, Herc, John, Alex, Angie, Eliza, or Peggy. I’ve just listed every single person he actually speaks to, aside from you. You are not sneaky,” she adds, looking at Burr. “Like, you think you’re so good at being vague, but I know everything you mean before you say it. Anyway, what’s the deal, Thomas?”

Thomas looks to Aaron, who nods. “Teddy’s safe. If you don’t want to say, though, you don’t have to.”

“Uh. What if -” Thomas pauses and tightens his hold on Aaron’s hand. “What if I used different pronouns?”

“Cool,” Teddy says. She waits for a moment, and when it’s evident Thomas doesn’t have anything more to say, she adds, “is that all?”

“Yes,” Thomas says, obviously confused.

“Oh. Well, okay, pronouns are great. Use whatever you want. What do you need support around? Community, friends, information, how to tell family? Transition services? What’s up?”

“I don’t need anything,” Thomas says, but Aaron cuts him off.

“I thought I’d check to see if they have any pronoun buttons. If not, it’s cool. I can order some.”

“Cool,” Teddy agrees. The trio stroll across the quad to where the rainbow club’s room is, and as they walk, she continues, “so what pronouns?”

“I mean, he usually? But sometimes she or they.”

“Cool,” Teddy says, for the third time.

“Okay, you two are seriously weirding me out - both of you are just so chill with this, and I don’t, you know,  _ look  _ like a she. At all.”

“I don’t care,” Teddy tells him.

“Say that nicer,” Aaron suggests.

“Whoops. Yeah. Okay. If you use she pronouns, you look like someone who uses she pronouns, end of story. So when do you switch?”

Thomas looks at Aaron like he’s drowning. Aaron cuts in, “he’s keeping me updated on it. Watch for hair changes.”

“And also not in public,” Thomas adds hurriedly, “I don’t want to do this in public, maybe just in private and with people who know.”

“That’s cool. Take your time.” Teddy links arms with Thomas on his free side. “Looks like it’s open, want me to go in and nab a couple pins for you? Give you some time to decompress. I know coming out is hard.”

“Yes please,” Aaron answers for Thomas.

Teddy takes her time. They can see her through the windows chatting up the group sitting on the old, saggy couch as she paws through the bowl of pronoun buttons.

“Maybe you should give them your old couch.”

“After Alex got  _ mustard  _ on it?”

“You didn’t even know about the mustard until this morning. It’s a nice couch and it looks fine. Better than throwing it away.”

“True,” Aaron admits. “Look, Thomas, I’m really proud of you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Thomas says.

“You came out. That’s something.”

“It’s not like it really counts. I’m just playing around with pronouns. Not a big deal.”

“I think it was brave,” Aaron says.

Teddy walks out of the room and waves a booklet at Thomas and Aaron. “Got you this,” she says, pushing it into Thomas’s hands. Aaron just glimpses the cover, which is purple with  _ TRANS  _ /  _ gender _ written in large white letters across it, before Thomas shoves it hastily into his pocket.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“And these,” she adds. “They didn’t have a ton of designs in, but I found some funky ones. He, she, and they.” She drops three buttons into Thomas’s hand, and he slips them into his pocket as well.

“Thanks,” he says again, but this time it’s a little more sincere.

“And they didn’t have any nerd buttons, sorry, Aaron. Like, with all the pronouns, you’d think they’d have one that just says ‘nerd,’ or maybe ‘gay nerd,’ or maybe ‘huge gay nerd’ -”

“Yeah, I went in and grabbed them all the other day. Been holding on to them for you,” Aaron says.

Teddy laughs and links her arm through Thomas’s again. “Your boyfriend is objectively a terrible person,” she tells Thomas.

“Shit, I guess you’re right. You available, honey?” he asks, winking at her.

Aaron lets go of his hand and says, “I guess you don’t need me on your little outing then -”

Thomas reaches out and wraps his arm around Aaron’s shoulders. “Nice try, but you’re stuck with me.”

“I was counting on that,” Aaron says with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos replace the cake that hercules mulligan stole from me. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr buys a new couch. Thomas talks about what it means to be transgender.

Everyone stands in the living room and stares at Aaron’s new couch.

Alex is the first to break the silence. “It’s exactly the same.”

“No, it’s not,” Aaron says.

“Yes, it is,” Hercules says. “It’s a grey couch. It’s a long grey couch with zero texture. Like, if you’re being generous, you could say it’s a nice stone grey couch, but it’s pretty much exactly the same, give or take a couple shades.”

“It is  _ not _ the same couch,” Aaron insists.

“Okay, so what’s the difference?” Angelica asks.

“First of all, I got it at a different store.”

“Wow,” Peggy says.

“Secondly, it’s six inches longer -”

John snickers.

“And third, the bottom pulls out and it becomes a bed. So Hercules won’t be sleeping on the floor anymore.”

“Wow, dude, you  _ do  _ care.” Hercules mimes wiping away a tear.

Peggy stage whispers, “let’s be honest, he’ll probably still sleep on the carpet.”

“So you spent all that money,” Alex says, “on a couch that’s six inches bigger.”

“And a pull out bed, yes. And also not covered in  _ mustard _ or  _ chocolate _ .”

“Okay, fair point,” Alex admits.

“I did convince him to buy some throw pillows, though. Check it out.” Thomas pulls two purple throw pillows out of a bag and gently arranges them against one of the arms of the couch. “Couch wizardry. Now it has personality.”

“Thank God,” Teddy deadpans.

“And my favourite part -” Aaron produces a navy blue sheet that he drapes over one end of the couch. “An Alexander-proof addition. Now you can eat cereal all you want without destroying the furniture.”

“He’ll find a way,” John says. “He always does. Seriously, just wait a month and this one will be ruined too.”

 

A week later John’s prediction comes true.

“What is this?” Aaron asks a very unapologetic Alexander.

“Uh, red Skittles. But like, the outside of them,” Alex says.

“All over my couch. What did you do?”

“He was infusing vodka,” John says, laying on the floor and tossing Skittles into Hercules’s mouth.

“With Skittles?”

“So then you have Skittles vodka,” Alex explains patiently.

“And you were doing it on my couch.”

“Yes.”

“My brand new, very expensive couch.”

“Yeah.”

“And you weren’t on the Alex-proof blanket because -”

“Because I was, actually, but I was straining the red skittles out of the bottle, and then Hercules wanted to try, and I leaned over -”

“And you spilled red Skittles vodka … all over my couch.”

“Bet rubbing alcohol would get that out, dude,” John says.

Aaron raises his hands into the air and stares wide-eyed at John. “Aaaah,” he manages. “Aaah. Aaaaaaaah.”

“You broke Aaron,” Herc says.

“What is vodka? Tell me what vodka is, John Laurens.” Aaron seems to have found his voice again.

“It’s a drink.”

“What  _ kind _ of drink?”

“Uh, alcohol.”

“So you are suggesting,” Aaron says, clasping his hands over the crown of his head, “that I remove alcohol from my couch with more alcohol?”

John laughs. “More alcohol is always the solution to everything.”

“Amen, dude,” Alex agrees.

“You’re grounded,” Aaron tells him. Alex laughs, and Aaron snaps, “not joking.”

 

Two days into Alexander’s grounding, even Aaron has to admit it’s hardly a punishment. Alexander’s favourite place to be is on the couch, flanked by John and Eliza and arguing on the internet. Aaron contemplates turning off the wifi at night but he knows there would be retaliation, so he resorts instead to asking Alex to do more chores. None of the chores actually get done, but it’s a statement, at least.

“Make him pay you to get the couch cleaned,” Thomas suggests one night, as he and Aaron snuggle in bed. Aaron’s laptop is open in front of them and Voltron is on, but neither of them are watching; Thomas is scratching Aaron’s head and Aaron is trailing his fingertips up and down Thomas’s thigh, debating whether or not to get amorous.

“That wouldn’t work,” Aaron says.

“Why? He wouldn’t do it? I think that’s a fair thing to ask.”

“He doesn’t have the money,” Aaron says. “He doesn’t really have any money. He writes articles and sells them to list sites, but that isn’t a ton of income, and the last time he tried to work retail, he lasted two days before he called the manager a self-important, over-inflated, power-hungry miniature man -”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly.”

“How does he pay rent?”

“Uh.” Aaron shrugs. “He gives me a hundred a month, if he can afford it.”

“You’re charging him a hundred dollars a month? In  _ New York? _ What the fuck, Aaron, how do you afford this place?” Thomas is incredulous.

“My grandparents owned it. They died and left it to me. I don’t do well living alone, so I was looking for a roommate. Put up an ad on Craigslist and Alex answered.”

“What did he say?” Thomas asks. “How did he convince you to swing that deal?”

“It was my suggestion, actually. He needed a place and he offered to clean to earn his keep. Actually, he offered a lot more than that, if you know what I mean, and said he’d be happy to sleep on the floor so I could rent out the bedroom to someone else. It was a pretty long email - he said a lot - but the gist was that he was desperate. And I know there are a lot of people out there who would have taken advantage of him.”

“And I’m guessing you met him and it was, you know, bromance at first sight or something equally serendipitous like that,” Thomas says.

“Nah,” Aaron says. “I hated him the second he opened his mouth.”

Thomas bursts into laughter. “So you kept him anyway?”

“Well, yeah. He comes in and pisses me off by running his mouth nonstop, but that night I’m sitting on the couch trying to ignore him and he turns to me and says, ‘I’m really glad you let me move in. I was scared I wouldn’t have anywhere to go.’ What was I supposed to do, kick him out?” Aaron says.

“I would have.”

“Thomas, be nice,” Aaron tells him.

“Okay, fine. I would have bought a new apartment and let him keep this one.”

“That’s why I’m his roommate and you’re not. Besides, I like him now. I can’t imagine living without him.”

“Even though his boyfriend’s practically moved in and his friends are always crashing here?”

“See, here’s the thing,” Aaron says. “I  _ know  _ I’m not really part of his group. Like, I’m on the outside, and that’s fine. I’ve never been very good at making friends. But they’re all so nice to me that I never actually feel like I don’t belong there. So when everyone is here, I feel like I actually have people who care about me. That’s kind of new.” He trails off as he feels Thomas stiffen and adds, “sorry, I know that got heavy suddenly.”

“No, it’s cool. Listen, I care about you, okay?”

“I care about you too,” Aaron says. He feels full of warmth and full to bursting.

“Just, you know, you don’t have to feel like you’re on the outside with me.”

“Let me in, then,” Aaron says. “Tell me what’s going on for you. I feel like neither of us really talk about ourselves, and you have things that I want to know about - I want to know about your family, about your gender stuff, how you got into busking, why you’re so good at rapping. Tell me things. Tell me your life story.”

“Wow, pretty much all of those suck to talk about,” Thomas mutters. “Why are you so all up in my face about the gender thing?”

“Because I think it’s important. It matters to me because I want you to be happy with me, and that means supporting you. Look, if I introduce you to someone who’s trans, will you talk to them about stuff?”

“I mean, maybe. I think maybe it would help. But seriously, I keep telling you, it’s not like I’m actually trans, I’m just -”

“Just playing with pronouns, yes, that’s what you keep saying. I think it would be good for you, though.”

“Okay,” Thomas says. “Yes, okay. I’ll talk to your person.”

“Thank you,” Aaron says. He turns and kisses Thomas hard on the lips and Thomas’s hand moves to his lower back, where it rests just near the waistband of his pajama pants. “I think you deserve a reward,” he murmurs into Thomas’s lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. How much of you do you think I can cover in hickeys?”

Thomas growls, and Aaron feels the growl shudder through his spine like thunder.

 

Aaron sits on the couch with Thomas and Alex. It’s a Friday night, but there’s a distinct lack of Hercules, the Schuylers, Teddy, or John; he’s asked everyone to find somewhere else to hang out until later in the evening. From the texts he’s been getting from Teddy, Aaron assumes they’re out drinking and having entirely too much fun.

“Okay, so, what’s the deal here?” Thomas asks. “Why am I hanging out with the guy who thinks freedom of speech is a responsibility and not a right?”

Before Alex can respond, Aaron says, “this is the guy I wanted to introduce you to, Thomas. My trans friend.”

Thomas looks at Alex like he’s seeing him for the first time. “No way,” he says.

“Yeah way,” Alex says.

“You don’t look trans.”

Alex draws in a breath in a soft hiss. “Ooh,” he says. “Look, I know you’re probably not super educated, but that’s really not the best thing to say -”

“I thought it was a compliment.” Thomas looks to Aaron for help.

“Yeah, no, I get that. That’s why I’m not ripping your head off. Listen, trans doesn’t  _ look  _ a certain way,” Alex explains. “Not like we have a uniform. Everyone’s different.”

“Uh, sorry. So how did you know? Like, that you were real?” Thomas asks. His voice is hesitant.

“Shit, like, the moment I started using the right pronouns. Like, someone called me ‘he’ and all of a sudden everything clicked. Other shit came later - like, I started transitioning, but that wasn’t as cool as when people used the right language. But I have friends who don’t care about the language. It’s when their body changes that it feels right. Some people never care about physical transition and just change their pronouns. It’s all cool,” Alex says. “But yeah, for me, it was the pronouns first. Took me forever to choose my name, though. I went through, like, ten different names.”

“How did you pick Alex?” Thomas asks.

Alexander grins. “I was looking online and I found it in a list. It means defender of men. How sick is that?”

“Super sick,” Thomas agrees solemnly.

“Anyway, way I figure is, if you’re not cis, you’re allowed to call yourself trans.”

“What if you - only change pronouns sometimes?” Thomas’s voice is soft and hesitant.

“What, like, if you’re genderfluid? Yeah, that counts.”

“Huh.” Thomas is quiet. His hand reaches toward Aaron and Aaron takes it and squeezes encouragingly. “That’s a real thing?”

“Yeah. Like - ok, listen, I teach this stuff sometimes, so I know what I’m talking about. There’s a historical precedent for this. Gender as we see it is cast in a really Western, colonialist light, and there’s a lot of nasty sexism and shit mixed up in it, so like, there’s a way bigger scope than they tell you about, okay? And every part of that scope is a real thing, and I’ll punch anyone who says otherwise,” Alex says.

“I believe it,” Thomas replies, a little taken aback.

“Anyway, yes. Genderfluidity is real.”

“And you promise you’re not just playing some kind of prank on me?”

“Dude, I swear. I don’t joke about shit like this,” Alex says.

“He’s not fucking with you,” Aaron agrees.

Thomas takes a deep breath. “Okay. Because, like, that’s me. I think. Like, the fluid thing.”

“Yeah?” Alex asks.

“Yeah. I mean -” Thomas breaks off and looks at Aaron. “How do I say this?”

“Three-two-one-go,” Aaron barks, and Thomas startles.

“I use she and they pronouns sometimes,” he blurts. “Fuck! I was  _ not  _ ready!”

“When do you use the other pronouns?” Alex asks.

“Uh - I mean, when I feel like it. I’ll let you know I guess, or if my hair is pulled back.”

“Do you use a different name?”

Thomas pointedly avoids Alex’s eyes as he replies, “I like Lafayette -”

“Holy  _ shit!” _ Alex says, practically vibrating in his seat. “Dude, this is like the best news I’ve ever gotten, cause you’re  _ so  _ much fun as Lafayette but you kind of suck the rest of the time -”

“Be nice,” Aaron interrupts.

“I said  _ kind  _ of suck, listen, Aaron, goddamnit. Anyway, listen, okay, anytime you’re feeling Lafayette, come hang out with me, okay? Cause I really like you like that. You’re a fucking blast. Seriously, can we like, nudge you a certain way and make your gender shift or -”

“Go easy on him with the gender jokes, this is a new thing for him,” Aaron says.

“Okay, fine, but seriously - seriously! I want to hang out with Lafayette. Man, see, I thought it was just you being infinitely better at performing than being a real person, but no, you are a real person who sometimes is actually cool.”

Thomas sits back on the couch and puts his feet up on the table. “Wow. Shit. This is the weirdest coming out experience I’ve ever had.”

“Do you want help coming out to everyone else?” Alex asks. “Like, seriously, I know everyone would be cool, and I can help if you need. Sometimes it’s good to have a buffer.”

Aaron puts an arm around Thomas’s shoulders, but he’s too short for it not to be a strain, so he pulls it back and puts his other arm over Thomas’s waist instead. “You don’t have to say yes to him if you aren’t ready, Thomas. I know this can take a while.”

Thomas takes a deep breath. “Shit, no time like the present, right? May as well. Can you tell them for me?”

Alex grins and starts typing out a group text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one time someone asked me "when did you trans your gender" and that was the best day of my life.
> 
> comments and kudos supply me with skittles vodka. come chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy shows Lafayette she's beautiful.

**ham:**  
hey yall news

 **angie:**  
ok

 **ham:**  
sometimes thomas is lafayette

 **eliza:**  
uh, duh?

 **ham:**  
shhhh still typing

 **teddy:**  
then dont hit enter til you’re done?

 **ham:**  
everyone shut up listen

 **ham:**  
anyway sometimes hes lafayette and sometimes he’s she or they

 **ham:**  
like tonight it’s lafayette use they/them or she/her when you get home

 **angie:**  
cool

 **herc:**  
cool

 **peggy:**  
cool

**eliza:**

cool

 **john:**  
cool

 

The rest of the team, tipsy and rowdy, rolls into the apartment bearing cake and alcohol.

“Why does cake keep happening?” Lafayette asks, leaning against Aaron, her legs across Alexander’s lap.

“Don’t question cake,” Teddy says. “Anyway, here you go, girl. Got you some special cider for your special coming out celebration.”

Teddy hands her half a dozen cans of mango raspberry cider, which Hercules is eyeing. “Any chance you’d help a bro out, Laf?” Herc asks. “Like, you don’t need six ciders, right?”

Lafayette seems stunned. She looks at Aaron, who tells her, “don’t let him take your cider, hon. If you want six ciders, you drink six ciders.”

“Is it normal that everyone’s being so cool about my name and stuff?” she asks him.

“Probably not with, like, regular people,” Peggy tells her. “But if any of us were gross about any of this stuff, Angie would kill us.”

“Or Teddy would kill us,” Herc adds.

“Or Alex would kill us,” John agrees.

“Also it would just be supremely shitty,” Eliza adds. She wriggles onto the couch between Lafayette and Alexander; Lafayette pulls her legs away, but Eliza pats her knee and says, “no, you can put those back. It’ll be my seatbelt.” As Lafayette replaces her legs, Eliza adds, “click click.”

“Buckled in safely,” Lafayette says with a grin. There’s hesitation there but there’s also delight. She pulls one cider from the pack Teddy handed her and tosses it to Hercules.

“You’re a queen,” he says, popping open the can and raising it at her.

“I agree,” Aaron says, looking at her with adoration plain in his eyes. He kisses her cheek and pauses to whisper, “you doing okay?”

“Mmhm,” Lafayette whispers back.

“Need anything?”

“Just stay here with me. This is still so new.”

“I’ve got you,” Aaron breathes, snaking an arm around her waist and squeezing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Then Teddy slams the cake on the coffee table, and Lafayette dives into the rush for the first slice, and all Aaron can do is sit back and watch with wonder at the confidence she carries in every motion.

 

Friday nights are party nights at the Hamburr household (named thusly by Alex, who insists he comes first because it’s alphabetical. Aaron debates explaining exactly how incorrect that is and realizes it’s really not worth the fight), which means everyone shows up and gets rowdy. Lafayette, unsurprisingly, is swept right up into the regular flow of party nights like they belonged there all along. Aaron and Lafayette always walk back from campus together, Lafayette still in their busking makeup, Aaron exhausted from a day of class and caffeine spikes. Alexander, John and Eliza are usually there already, snuggled up on the couch in various states of entanglement. They never pause their conversation when Lafayette and Aaron walk in; Aaron debates starting a twitter just to record all the bizarre things he hears when he gets home.

For example:

“Snuffleupagus is clearly meant to explain the concept of gaslighting to young children,” is Alexander’s claim.

“That’s bullshit. He’s just Big Bird’s imaginary friend,” John says.

“Um, guys? The adults can see Snuffie now,” Eliza tells them both. “You’re both objectively incorrect.”

Or:

“I’m pretty sure there’s an established legal precedent for marrying yourself.”

“That’s perfect for you, Alex.”

“What, like you wouldn’t do it, John? Alex might be full of himself, but I’ve seen how you look at the mirror when you think you’re alone.”

Or:

“What emotion do you think pigeons feel most strongly?”

“Bread,” John tells Alex. “They feel bread.”

“No, definitely not bread. They feel head-bob,” Eliza insists.

Aaron and Lafayette, at first, make excuses not to stay and get roped into the conversation, but before long they realize that the trio don’t particularly care if they engage or not, so it’s a simple matter to wave hello and walk through on their way to the bathroom.

This particular Friday, as Aaron and Lafayette walk in, the terrible trio are discussing pride flags. “Look,” Alex says, “I just don’t think it’s a coincidence that the trans flag looks like a desaturated French flag.”

“It’s also mirrored,” John says pointedly.

“So? You can mirror the French flag, it takes two seconds,” Eliza says.

“Uh, what’s the trans flag?” Lafayette asks, pausing to lean over the back of the couch.

“Check it out,” Alex says. He hands Lafayette a t-shirt striped in white, pink and blue, and adds, “Herc screened a couple of these. He thought you might like one.”

“I mean, I guess it’s not too far off from the French flag,” Lafayette admits.

“Try it on, buddy,” Herc says from the floor. “I can do a ton more when I go back to the studio on Monday, so if it’s the wrong size just let me know and I’ll get a new one. I was guessing you’d be a large on account of your shoulders but I took the waist in for you. Gotta show off those hips.”

Lafayette holds the shirt tight, apparently struggling to hold emotion back. “Thank you,” they say. “I appreciate the thought, really.”

“You should try it on,” John says.

Lafayette looks to Aaron, who says, “maybe after they’ve showered. See you all in a few minutes.”

The moment the bathroom door is shut and locked behind them, Lafayette turns and brandishes the t-shirt. “Is this normal?” they ask.

“What do you mean?”

“I come out and they give me cake and throw a party, and everyone is just - so relaxed about everything, and there’s only been _one_ time that someone used the wrong pronoun, and I have three that I switch up, so it’s not like it’s exactly easy to remember. And no one messes up my name, and when I’m feeling fem Herc doesn’t call me dude, and everyone is so fucking _nice_ about this. Is this a joke?”

“Why would it be a joke?” Aaron takes the shirt, puts it on the counter, and wraps Lafayette in a hug. “That would just be nasty. And I’m not going to let them do that to you.”

“I dunno, it just feels - disingenuous. Why would anyone be so nice about this shit? Why are they giving me things and being so supportive? It’s been like, a month since Alex told everyone, and no one but these guys even know. They haven’t told anyone. It’s a secret. This is too perfect and I don’t trust them.” Lafayette pulls away, shucks their shirt and pants, and turns on the shower, pointedly avoiding looking at Aaron. “All I’m saying is, no one is this nice without an ulterior motive.”

“Maybe it’s possible that they actually like you. You’re fun, you’re sweet, you tell good stories, and I lo - I like you. A lot.”

Lafayette stiffens.

“I like you,” Aaron insists. His insides feel cold but his face burns hot. “So, you know, of course they’ll care about you. Because they - I mean, I guess maybe they care about me.”

“You were saying something else, though,” Laf says. Their voice is soft; it’s a gentle growl deep in their chest.

“No,” Aaron says.

“Yes,” Lafayette says. They turn and make eye contact, and Aaron has to look away. “What were you saying?”

“Lafayette -”

“What are you scared of?”

 _Everything,_ Aaron thinks. _Name something, anything, I’m probably terrified of it. Terrified that this is too much, too soon, that I’m not enough, that you deserve better, that you’ll find better, that this isn’t what you want, that_ I’m _not what you want -_

“I don’t know,” is what he says.

“Please?”

“I love you,” Aaron says, and Lafayette’s lips twitch. He hurries to add, “you don’t have to say it back or anything, I mean, if you’re not there yet - it’s okay, I shouldn’t have said that. I usually think more before I talk -”

“No, you don’t,” Lafayette says. She pulls Aaron into a tight hug and he melts into her, kissing every inch of her he can reach - which, given their size difference, amounts to a good portion of her chest and a little of her neck.

“Sorry,” Aaron murmurs against her skin. He can feel the humidity in the bathroom rising as the shower runs, and there’s dampness between them; his clothes hang heavy on his body and sweat beads on his upper lip. Some of it is probably because of the warmth. He knows the rest is anxiety.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Aaron,” Lafayette says. “I love you too.”

“Well, shit,” Aaron says.

Lafayette kisses his forehead and pulls away to get in the shower. “By the way,” they say, “I fucking love that shirt. Do you think it’s, you know, okay for me to wear it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Cause it’s the trans flag.” Lafayette carefully soaps up their face and hums as they rinse. Aaron keeps quiet, waiting until their face is devoid of paint and out of the spray, knowing there’s more they want to say; when their face is clear, they add, “I feel like, you know, like I’m stealing.”

“Stealing as in, actually physically taking an object, or -?”

“You know, like, stealing the flag. Like I don’t have the right.”

“Herc wouldn’t have made it for you if you didn’t deserve it, you know.”

Lafayette doesn’t respond. They finish showering in silence; their face is pensive and their posture guarded as they shut off the water and dry off. Aaron doesn’t push them. He waits patiently for them to be ready.

In the end, they don’t say anything more. But when they get dressed, they pass over their white performing tank, and put on the t-shirt instead.

 

By the time Aaron and Laf are done in the bathroom, the other two Schuylers have arrived, with Teddy in tow. Angie has a backpack that clinks suspiciously; Peggy is clutching her makeup case.

“What’s with the toolbox?” Herc asks, pointing at the case.

“Makeover night,” Peggy explains. “I learned how to do absolutely amazing dramatic contouring today. Like, runway style. And I decided everyone is going to be beautiful tonight, because we all deserve to feel like queens.”

“Dude, me first,” Hercules says.

“Um, excuse me? Clearly me first,” John argues.

“Dating-her-sister privilege here, so me first,” Teddy cuts in. “Peggy, please tell me that isn’t, like, the white person dream kit there, please tell me you have some shit that matches my skin -”

“Basic kit was white people city, but I picked up some extra goodies,” Peggy says. “I’ve got you.”

Laf looks to Aaron, uncertainty clear in her eyes.

“You wanna do that too?” Aaron murmurs. Lafayette nods, a motion so small it’s nearly imperceptible.

Peggy sets her workspace up at the table and takes her time digging through eyeshadow as Angie pulls several bottles of alcohol out of her backpack. The attitude in the room changes; Herc is suddenly looking at Lafayette, and then John follows his gaze, which means Alexander and Eliza look too.

“Um,” Lafayette says. She clears her throat. Peggy doesn’t look up, so she tries again, a little louder: “Um?”

“Hm?” Peggy asks.

“Can, um -” Lafayette looks at Aaron again, nervous, tense, and Aaron squeezes her hand encouragingly. “Can I, you know, have a turn? I’ve never -”

“Shit! Yes! You’re first,” Peggy tells her.

“Dude,” Herc complains.

“Dude,” John agrees.

Eliza cuts in, “Pegster has spoken, and she’s the makeup president. Y’all can wait your turns.”

Lafayette sits in the chair, perched on the edge and holding herself tight, and Peggy gently holds her chin and nudges her face, taking in the angles.

“You have amazing cheekbones,” she says.

“Uh, thank you,” Lafayette.

“Relax, Laf, I’m not gonna hurt you. What’s got you so tense?”

“Never done this before.”

“That’s cool, everyone has a first time. And I’m honoured to be your first. This is primer, goes on your skin first. Might feel a little weird. You ready?”

Lafayette takes a deep breath. “I mean, I guess so.”

Peggy gently dabs a sponge on Lafayette’s face, and Lafayette squirms in her seat.

“Feel weird?”

“Yeah.” She laughs a little, and that broad grin appears on her face as she continues, “it kinda tickles. Does the rest feel this weird?”

“Not really,” Peggy tells her, working the primer onto her skin. She smooths on the last of the primer and then tests swatches of foundation on Lafayette’s hand. “This one looks closest. Can you handle the texture?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, I can handle it. What’s next?”

Peggy blends the foundation down to the line of Lafayette’s beard. “I’m gonna contour the hell out of your face,” she says. “You have these amazing cheekbones and I want to bring that out. Bronzer goes all along here -” She works as she talks, brushing makeup on in easy, practiced strokes, and as she works, confident and and capable, Lafayette relaxes.

“So cheekbones sharp enough to kill, got it. Next?”

“Relax, give me a sec to catch up to you, girl, you’re jumping ahead. Hold on -” Peggy finishes blending the bronzer in and reaches for highlighter. “Now I make you look ferocious.”

“I think she does that pretty well on her own,” Aaron says.

“Shut up, Pockets, Peggy’s making magic,” Angie tells him.

“This isn’t even my favourite part. Give me a sec to blend - sweet, you look amazing. Wanna see so far?”

“Yes,” Lafayette says.

Peggy hands her a mirror, and for a second, she can’t speak.

“That’s me,” she manages.

“Yeah it is,” Peggy says. “Ready for me to do your eyes?”

Lafayette takes a deep breath, struggling to tear her eyes away from the mirror. “Yeah,” she says finally. “Yeah. Okay. What’s up first?”

“What colour eye shadow do you want?”

“Red?” Eliza asks.

“Blue?” is Herc’s contribution.

“Bet she’ll say white,” Teddy says.

“Um - do you have purple?” Lafayette asks.

Peggy seems taken aback, but she produces a palette and points with an eyeshadow brush. “Light? Dark? More towards red or blue?”

Lafayette points to a lavender that isn’t outright sparkly, but definitely not matte either - there’s a hint of pearlescence. “This one?”

“You got it. Shit, I was expecting you to ask for, like, a French flag on your eyelids or something.”

“Okay, but what do you get when you mix red, white and blue?”

Peggy pauses in brushing shadow onto Lafayette’s eyelids. “What the _fuck.”_

“Why am I not at all surprised?” Aaron grins.

“That looks fucking amazing, Pegs,” Eliza says. She hangs over the back of the couch, completely absorbed in the transformation.

“So close to done! Check it out - liquid eyeliner. I can get a perfect wing without even _trying,”_ Peggy boasts. “That's what happens when you spend so much time doing this in class.”

“And on me,” Angelica says, fluttering her eyelashes.

“And on you, yeah. Laf, how do you feel about mascara? You have absolutely amazing eyelashes - really long, really thick -”

John snorts with laughter and Alex smacks him as Lafayette's eyes go wide with what looks like embarrassment.

“Uh, fine, I guess?”

“Cool. You don’t need much - that should be fine - and a touch of lip gloss, nothing dramatic, your eyes should be the focus. Keep your eyes closed, I’m powdering you - okay, look.”

Peggy hands Lafayette the mirror again. Laf stares at herself, spellbound, taking in the wicked points of her eyeliner, the soft purple on her eyelids, the shine of her full lips. It isn’t until she smiles and her reflection smiles back that she really absorbs that it’s _her_ looking back.

“Wow,” she says. She touches her beard, her smile faltering a little, and Peggy gasps.

“Wait, wait, one more thing -”

Peggy dabs a brush into a tiny pot of glitter and dusts it into Lafayette’s beard.

When Lafayette looks again, it takes all her strength to hold back tears.

“You look beautiful,” Aaron tells her.

“Yeah,” Lafayette agrees, and it sounds like she means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos feed me pizza at 1 am. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's ugly day.

Aaron drags himself out of bed, feeling like he’s been hit by a truck carrying a full load of apathy. His body seems far too heavy, his movements sluggish.

He fumbles for the pills on his desk and notices there’s only a few left. Putting one on his tongue, he grimaces at the bitterness and hunts for his water bottle. There’s no water anywhere in his room, which means he wasn’t hydrating during the night, which explains why his mouth tastes awful and his throat feels gritty.

He dry swallows the pill and immediately regrets every decision that has led him to this point in his life.

“Alex,” Aaron says, stepping into the hallway in his pajama pants. “Can you call the pharmacy for me?”

“Today is  _ really  _ not a talking to people day,” says an amorphous lump from the couch.

“Okay, no problem, I’ll get Teddy to do it.”

“What’s up?”

“My pills are almost gone. Guess I forgot to refill.”

“Fuck finals,” Alex says.

“Fuck finals,” Aaron agrees, getting his water bottle from the kitchen counter.

He steps back into his bedroom and starts hunting through his t-shirts for one he doesn’t hate (has he always hated his clothes this much? His brain is foggy, it’s hard to remember) and as he stumbles through the motions of dressing, he looks at the clock and realizes he’s already half an hour late for class.

Fuck it, then. Ugly day it is. It’s only a review before finals week anyway.

Instead of getting dressed, he pulls the duvet off his bed, grabs his threadbare cat plush, and pads into the living room. “Shove over,” he tells Alex.

“Nnnn.”

“Just your feet. I’m joining you.”

“Not going to class?”

“Nah.”

Alexander’s eyes peek out from the blanket nest. “Okay, but my brain is  _ really  _ cramped today and I need you to not touch me.”

“Got it. I’ll stick to my side.”

Alex moves his feet, watching carefully as Aaron sit down. He puts a throw pillow between them and says sternly, “this wall needs to stay here.”

“That’s cool, Alex. Let me know if you want more pillows.”

“Nah. Just don’t, you know, touch it.”

“Alright. Tell me if I get too close.”

“I will,” Alex says.

“What were you watching?”

Alex stares suspiciously at the TV. “Um, I was watching a show about animals, like, what’s the cutest, but I thought I heard my name and I got freaked out and turned it off.”

“If you want to turn it back on, you can check with me when you hear your name. I’ll let you know if it’s actually happening.”

“Promise you’ll tell the truth?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” Alex snakes his arm out from his blanket nest and turns the TV on. “Just, like, double checking that you’re gonna listen, cause man if it’s talking to me again -”

“I double promise, Alex. Remember last time? I’ll listen super close.”

“Okay,” Alex says as he hits play.

Aaron feels his phone buzz and Alexander’s head whips around. “That was my phone, it was real,” Aaron says as he checks.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Thomas - says he misses me at the cafe, aww. I’m telling him I’m home.”

“Did you hear it that time?”

“Nope, that was ‘salamander.’ You’re okay. Thomas wants to know if I’m with anyone, can I tell him you’re here?”

Alex pauses and clicks his teeth. “Okay,” he says finally. “But you’re only telling Thomas, right? No one else?”

“Only Thomas,” Aaron agrees as he types. “Teddy’s probably gonna wanna come over when she notices I’m not in class, though. She’ll bring us food. Sound good?”

“I have Monster,” Alex mutters.

“Yeah, but Monster isn’t food. I’ll get her to pick you up some Hot Pockets, okay? They’re sealed and you can watch while she microwaves them so you know they aren’t contaminated.”

“Okay. Teddy’s good. Safe. And John’s gonna come over later, but he’s in class and I didn’t tell him - did you hear that?”

“My phone again, Alex. That one was real. Want me to turn the vibration off?” Aaron asks.

“No, I wanna hear it. Just keep checking in with me.”

“Thomas wants to come over. Are you okay with that?”

“Can you go out and see him?”

“No, Alex, I’m sorry,” Aaron says. “I’m having a really shitty day, I just really don’t have the parts to go outside.”

“Okay,” Alex says. “But he  _ can’t _ touch my blanket, and I don’t want him near my toothbrush, and you have to explain ugly day to him, and he isn’t allowed to look at me for too long.”

“Got it.”

 

**beef:  
** can I come over and check on you? bit worried, nothing keeps you away from coffee

**Me:**  
Uhhhh I guess so but I’m really not going to be pretty

**beef:**  
youre always pretty. whats going on?

**Me:**  
Ugly day. I can explain more when youre here but the rules of ugly day are 1. don’t expect me or Alex to do much of anything 2. you are not allowed to judge what we’re wearing 3. you have to be nice to us even if we’re grumpy 4. be gentle with your jokes

**beef:**  
oohhhhh ok I can handle that

**beef:**  
my shift is over in a couple hours. need me to bring you anything?

**Me:**  
Please bring me something full of fat and bad for me. and also ice cream, and maybe muffins? Pay you back

**beef:**  
my treat. see you in a bit, baby  <3

 

“Did you hear it that time?” Alex asks.

“Nope,” Aaron tells him. “That time it was ‘alligator.’ Thomas will be here in a couple hours. You want cereal?”

“No.”

“Frozen pizza?”

“Is it still wrapped?”

“Yeah. Wanna watch me make it?” Aaron asks.

Alex hauls himself off the couch and stands shakily on his feet. “Yes. But I don’t wanna touch it til it’s ready, and can you wash your hands twice?”

“Can do,” Aaron agrees. He leads the way into the kitchen, turns on the oven, washes his hands twice, shakes them dry (because towels harbour common kitchen toxins, Alex explains several times), and then carefully rips open the plastic wrapping on the frozen pizza.

“Do you think the cheese is safe enough to put some extra on?” Alex asks.

“It’s been in a bag since the last time we used it. I can check.”

“Yeah,” Alex says.

Aaron pulls the bag of shredded cheese out of the fridge and carefully examines it. “Looks clean,” he says. “Wanna look?”

Alex peers carefully at it but refuses to touch it. “Safe enough,” he agrees, so Aaron spreads a thick layer of cheese on the pizza and pops it in the oven.

“Did you take your meds today?” Aaron asks as he hands Alex a fresh Monster from the fridge. “Or are they just not helping?”

“Um, took the prescription stuff but not the fish oil. That shit smells weird and I think I left the cap off, so -”

“Not safe?”

“Not safe. Who knows what could have been put in there?”

“I can promise no one but our friends has been in our place, Alex.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Alex insists. “Someone could have broken in and contaminated stuff and then left, and no one would even know. Like, how would anyone even tell? Not worth the risk. Can you get an alcohol swab from the bathroom? Wait, no - there’s a few here.”

Alexander carefully wipes down the rim of his can with the swab and Aaron nods sympathetically. “That’s fair. So we’ll just eat the packaged stuff for a few days, until we know all the contamination is gone.”

“Yeah? How do you know when it’s gone?”

“Anything they could put on surfaces open to the air would expire pretty quick,” Aaron bullshits. “Like, you either get invisible, or long-lasting. Can’t do both. If any of our food was contaminated, all the poison would be gone in a day. So we’ll give it two just to be safe, okay?”

Alex squints but accepts that answer. “Okay,” he says.

Aaron manages to get the pizza out of the oven and sliced without any mishaps. Even just baking a frozen pizza is exhausting; by the time he and Alex are settled on the couch and eating their way through the pizza, he’s more tired than he’s ever been in his life. All of his limbs feel like they’ve been weighted down; every motion seems to be happening at half speed.

“Did you hear that one?” Alex says suddenly, pointing at the TV.

Aaron takes a deep, laboured breath. “That one actually was ‘Alexander,’ but they were talking about a zoologist. Not you, buddy. Did that one scare you?”

“Yeah,” Alex admits.

“You want me to bring you your puppy?”

“No,” Alex says, and Aaron breathes a silent sigh of relief. The thought of walking to Alexander’s room, picking up a plushie, and walking back is dizzying, insurmountable.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna maybe take a nap.” Aaron drags himself awake long enough to text Thomas  _ don’t look at Alex too much today it’ll make him upset also please be here soon  _ and he doesn’t actually know if he hits send or not because suddenly his arms are somewhere very, very far away from his body, and nothing seems to bring them back. He drifts for a while, watching minutes tick by on the status bar of his phone until the screen goes black. That fading, the abrupt surrender to darkness, seems far too appealing; he drags his mind away from daydreams of a quiet, unobtrusive fade of his own, before allowing himself the indulgence. Who does it harm, if he thinks about it? Who gets hurt if he just lets himself be nothing for a while, or forever? There’s a void, he knows, waiting for him, and it would be all too easy to give in, to not refill his prescription, to stop talking, to stop going to class, to stop getting up, to stop moving forward.

“Still with me?” a voice murmurs in his ear, and Aaron straightens up a little, heart hammering, his ear bumping against a very familiar pair of lips.

“Oh,” is what he manages to say. His hand half-raises from its resting place on his lap but he can’t manage the energy to lift it all the way to Thomas’s face. “Hey.” 

“You okay? Were you asleep?”

“No,” Aaron says.

“It’s ugly day,” Alex says from his nest of blankets. As Thomas turns to respond, he adds hurriedly, “don’t look at me.”

“Got it,” Thomas says, focusing his eyes on the TV. “What’s ugly day?”

“Mental illness gremlins are riding us. Please don’t judge me for this,” Aaron says.

“Wow, like you don’t have enough to judge  _ me _ on. Not a chance. Brought you coffee and chicken strips. There’s also a bunch of muffins and pastries from the cafe. You want a muffin, Alex? I have banana chocolate.”

“Are they contaminated?” Alex asks.

“Nope.” Thomas hands him one of the muffins, which is thankfully wrapped in plastic.

After a long moment of suspicious examination, Alex declares the muffin safe and absorbs himself in picking it to pieces before he eats it. Thomas squeezes himself between Aaron and the throw pillow wall and offers Aaron the coffee. After a couple failed attempts at taking it, Aaron shamefully admits he can’t really hold the cup, and Thomas lifts it to his lips.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“You don’t have to do this, Thomas. My proprioception is just off. It’ll be fine in a few minutes,” Aaron says.

“I know I don’t have to do this, but I want to. You’ll feel a little more like yourself after some coffee. You can take a sip, no shame, okay? Not judging you.”

Thomas’s eyes are warm and sincere, and Aaron swallows his pride along with a generous mouthful of coffee. 

“Sorry,” he says when his mouth is empty.

“For what? You aren’t doing anything wrong,” Thomas says.

“Okay, that one?” Alex asks.

“That one what?” Thomas says, but Aaron interrupts.

“It’s just instrumental right now, no words at all. I promise it wasn’t your name.”

Thomas glances over at Alex, but looks away quickly. “You hearing your name, dude?”

“Yeah,” is Alexander’s sullen answer.

“I’ve been telling him if it’s really happening,” Aaron says.

“I can be your backup here, then. If both of us are listening then we definitely won’t miss it if it happens, right?”

“You’re the best,” Aaron says, his voice heavy with relief.

He lets himself lean against Thomas and drift. Every so often Alex stirs to ask for a reality confirmation; Aaron finds that by the time he’s worked up the energy to respond, Thomas has stepped in and taken care of it. Thomas seems to have a talent for combatting even the most stubborn of Alexander’s delusions, to the point that he manages to get Alex to eat a decent amount of food with minimal coaxing and no after-food meltdown. It gives Aaron space to contemplate the heaviness in his chest and the strange feeling of hopelessness he can’t shake.

After what might be two hours or two years - Aaron can’t tell, he’s completely lost all sense of time - he stirs enough to ask, “shouldn’t you be on campus right now? You always busk in the afternoons.”

“Being here is more important,” Thomas says soothingly.

“That’s good money, though -”

“Well, yeah, but I’d rather make sure you two are okay. Besides, no one else is here to do it.”

“Thomas, can you get me another Monster?” Alex asks. Aaron feels irritation rise in his chest but he bites back a nasty comment as Thomas gets up. He can’t help pouting a little; Thomas kisses his forehead.

“Thirty seconds,” he whispers to Aaron.

Much as he hates to admit it, those thirty seconds are painful. Aaron sits on the couch, stony and silent, and counts down the seconds. When he hits thirty, and Thomas still isn’t sitting next to him, he feels anxiety rise, even though he can  _ see  _ Thomas now, handing another can to Alex. It isn’t the distance; it’s the principle. 

Thomas sits back down and Aaron curls into him. “I’m here, kitten,” Thomas says. “Not going on anywhere. How long has this been going on?”

Aaron draws a deep, shuddering breath. “Like, this particular low, or mental illness in general?”

“I didn’t actually think that out all the way. Both, or either, or whatever.”

“This low’s been coming on for a while and hit hard today. In general, though - maybe like, ten years, maybe a bit more? I was pretty young when it started and it just kept going.”

“What is, you know, ‘it’? Is that an okay question to ask?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Aaron tells him. “Depression and anxiety.”

“Bipolar and PTSD,” Alex chips in from under his blanket. “In case you were wondering. And if you weren’t you can forget I said that.”

“Wow, shit.” Thomas is silent for a moment, gently scratching Aaron’s scalp. Aaron nuzzles against his shoulder and makes a soft noise of contentment, letting himself drift. There’s still that temptation there, the draw of letting himself fade away, but he feels more solid with Thomas next to him. Things suck - maybe things will always suck - but it’s an acceptable kind of sucking, he thinks, if he doesn’t have to do it alone.

“I love you,” he murmurs, and Thomas turns to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Love you too,” he whispers back. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

“God, yes,” Aaron says, “more than anything.”

 

When Aaron can’t stay upright anymore - it’s barely 9 pm, but just being awake was far more exhausting than he could have expected - Thomas runs a bath and helps him into it. The warmth of the water and the strength of Thomas’s arms hold him solid and safe, and he lets himself half-doze while he’s soaped up and rinsed off.

“Ready to get out?” Thomas asks him, after what feels like a hundred years in the water.

“Mm-mm,” Aaron manages to respond.

“Is that a no-energy no, or a bathtime-feels-good no?”

“No energy.”

“Okay, so we can take it a step at a time. First step is standing up.”

Thomas takes Aaron’s hands and helps him stagger to his feet and clamber out of the tub. “Good,” he says soothingly. “Next step is towel. Feel good?”

Aaron makes a humming noise of agreement from under the towel Thomas is drying him with.

“Good. You’re doing great, kitten. You stay wrapped up in that and I’ll put you in bed.”

“And you’re coming to bed too?” Aaron asks. He feels like a burrito in his towel; Thomas unplugs the bathtub, opens the bathroom door and leads him to his bedroom.

“Of course. I’m not gonna go to sleep right away but I’ll be in bed with you, okay? Let’s get some boxers on you.”

“No boxers,” Aaron says. He waits until the bedroom door is closed, then takes a deep breath and asks, “Thomas, can we have sex?”

“Yeah. What do you want to do?” Thomas hangs the towel over the door handle.

“Can you, um - are you going to be upset if I can’t do anything for you?”

“No, Aaron, never. But you want me to do something for you?”

Aaron averts his eyes. “Well, yeah -” He fumbles for words but there aren’t any more than that; his tongue is leaden.

“You want me to jack you off?” Thomas asks.

“Um, maybe - something else?”

Thomas nods. “That’s, uh, about as far as we’ve ever gotten, so -”

“Your lips,” Aaron says, and then he stops. He laughs a little through the strange new ache in his chest. “Uh, when I first started, you know, thinking seriously about asking you out, Teddy asked me this question -”

“Yeah?”

“Shit, okay, she asked if, uh, you had -”

“What?” Thomas presses gently. “You can just say it -”

“- if you had dick sucking lips -”

“Oh.” Thomas seems stunned for a moment. “And, um, do I?”

“That’s the, you know, that’s the - uh, the question. That is the question.” Aaron stops and adds, “wait, I fucked that up - I mean, that’s what I’d like to find out.”

“Smooth,” Thomas says, and it’s only a little sarcastic.

“Don’t even look at me for a while,” Aaron says in agreement.

“Anyway,” Thomas says, “I do in fact have dick sucking lips.”

There’s a pulse of heat and suddenly Aaron can feel himself getting hard. “Oh yeah?” he says, trying to sound cool and not at all like he’s overcome by this young god who is way out of his league and yet somehow standing in his bedroom and hinting at sucking his dick.

“Yeah.” Thomas has lowered his voice to a golden purr. 

“So are you gonna show me, or -”

Thomas kisses him, hard, and Aaron squeaks a little in surprise before sinking into the kiss. His head is foggy with exhaustion, and his eyes snap shut and stay shut; his world becomes the rasp of his breath, the sound of Thomas moaning against his lips, the feeling of broad hands roaming down his body. He feels fingertips brushing his abdomen and sinking lower, following the trail of hair to where it thickens, and then there’s a hand on his cock and he chokes out a groan and breaks the kiss to lean his forehead against Thomas’s chest.

“Fuck,” he chokes out.

“Yeah?” Thomas strokes him lazily. “You wanna get in bed so I can put these dick sucking lips to use?”

Aaron had no idea he could move that fast. Before he knows it he’s in bed, the covers kicked back, and he feels his cock bobbing as Thomas strips. He wants him to hurry but he can’t complain about the way Thomas comes bare before him; he traces the lines of muscles with his eyes, hungry at the way his boxers peek over the waistband of his pants and the dusting of hair on his chest and below his navel.

“I love your trail,” Aaron says, and Thomas looks down.

“My trail?”

“Your, uh, you have a line. The hair there,” he says, pointing to the stripe of hair on his abdomen. “It’s like, the map to your dick -”

“Wow, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re not allowed to judge what I’m saying. It’s ugly day.”

“Fair,” Thomas admits. He strips off his pants and then his boxers, and the sight of him, thick and half-hard, is too much for Aaron to handle.

“Please, just get over here -”

Thomas gets in bed and kisses Aaron’s thighs. He’s a sloppy kisser; he likes to leave his lips open and his tongue or his teeth press against the skin as he kisses his way up towards Aaron’s cock. Each kiss is just slightly closer than the last. The second before Aaron just yanks him up by the hair - it’s torture, having that mouth so close and not connecting - Thomas wraps his fingers around the base of Aaron’s cock and licks a long, slow line up along the raphe.

“Fuck -”

“Mmhm?”

“I had no idea it felt like that.”

“Mmhm -”

“Please don’t stop -”

Thomas sucks the tip of Aaron’s cock into his mouth and teases it with his tongue and Aaron throws his head back and groans so deep he can hardly hear the noise. His back arches as Thomas bobs his head, and his dick sucking lips - he wasn’t lying - make obscene slurping noises along the length of the shaft.

“Thomas, fuck, I’m not going to last long -”

Thomas seems to be shaking and Aaron glances down to see he’s jerking himself off, and that sends a pulse through his spine. He barely has time to gasp out a warning before he’s coming, and he doesn’t know what he was expecting - but Thomas makes eye contact and  _ swallows  _ and Aaron sobs, overcome and shuddering through what feels like the most intense orgasm of his life.

Thomas comes into his hand and reaches for a tissue but Aaron stops him. “You, you know,” he says, and he can’t quite make eye contact as he says it, “you took me so I think - maybe -”

“Wanna taste it?” The golden purr is back and Aaron makes a soft noise that means  _ yes, God yes, I’d swallow all of it, all you give me, for the rest of forever, _ and Thomas raises his hand and then Aaron is tentatively touching his tongue to the mess on those fingers and he surprises himself by greedily licking up every trace of it that he can find. “Good boy,” Thomas murmurs, stroking his head with the hand that isn’t being sucked clean.

Aaron makes a noise and gives Thomas’s palm a last lick, hunting in vain for more. “I didn’t know that’s how it would feel,” he says. “Or taste. Or - fuck. Listen, when I’m not so, you know -”

“Yeah -”

“I want to do that to you. What you did, I mean. Can I?”

Instead of answering, Thomas asks, “can I kiss you?”

Aaron nods and then his whole world is Thomas kissing him, the taste of his own come on the lips he adores mingling with the last traces of the taste in his own mouth, and it’s perfect.

Then Thomas breaks away and says, “I would love to see what you can do with your mouth if you just sucking my fingers felt so good,” and he tingles all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long YIKES i was in the hospital. i died but im alright now
> 
> comments and kudos speed my recovery. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that even the most whimsical of adventures eventually turn to shit? It's true. Just ask these nerds.

By Monday afternoon, Aaron is already certain it’s going to be a terrible week, but he makes the mistake of hoping it will get better.

First of all, he’s absolutely sure he failed his sociology final. It was his fault - he didn’t show up to his review and he _knows_ sociology is not his strong suit, especially with regards to deviance. Lafayette often fondly refers to him as the largest moral grey area on the Eastern coast, and it’s true; his moral compass has very little to do with society as a whole, and a whole lot to do with the happiness of his friends. He may have been just a little too apathetic on his final. He knows it’s going to bite him in the ass.

And then on Monday afternoon, while he watches Lafayette perform, he nearly gets in a fight. Well - it’s not as if he actually would have fought anyone, per se. Passive aggressiveness or extreme disdain are more his style. But neither of those methods convey the utter loathing he feels for the assholes he has the misfortune of standing next to.

Lafayette has begun to let more femininity sneak into their busking costume. Peggy has taught them some basic makeup skills, and it’s not unusual for them to accent their face paint with winged eyeliner or glitter. Their shirts are more daring, now - lower necklines, sometimes showing so much skin that it makes Aaron ache at their beauty. No skirts yet, but that’s getting closer and closer as the days go by. They’re still nervous about it, it’s still new and a little frightening, but Aaron always makes a point of telling them how beautiful they are and pumping them up until they’re confident enough to take on the world.

So when he hears the derisive laughter from the jerks next to him, he can’t help but feel responsible.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I watch him anymore,” one guy is saying to his friends. “He used to be a decent rapper but now he’s doing all this gay shit and it’s just, you know, over the top. I get it shoved down my throat everywhere else, I don’t need it here.”

Aaron had almost forgotten the word _gay_ could mean something dirty or wrong or disgusting. He and his friends - Alexander’s friends, he catches himself, they aren’t really his - use it all the time. ‘That’s gay,’ they might say after a particularly heartfelt compliment, or ‘you look super gay, keep it up.’ In their little safe space, it’s lighthearted, it’s kind, it’s endearing, and hearing it now, in this way, Aaron feels his breath catch in his chest. For the first time he really connects the word _gay_ with his relationship with Lafayette (although to be fair, whenever she’s feeling particularly feminine, Aaron makes a point of saying ‘I’m so hetero for you,’ just to see her face light up) and there’s a deep drag of hatred. He’s surprised to find it levelled at himself.

He manages to choke air into his lungs and starts to lean over but Teddy grabs his arm and shakes her head, just a little, just enough that he falters and fails.

“But -”

“Don’t,” she says, her voice so soft he can barely hear it. “Not worth it. You want to get your ass kicked? Look at them.”

Aaron looks again and he has to concede that they’re far bigger than he is. He burns with the injustice, but he holds his tongue.

 _Could have used this kind of shit for my final,_ he thinks bitterly. Some core of anger in him, so seldom awakened, connects the jeering and mockery to the word ‘deviance’ and locks them together irrevocably. Lafayette makes eye contact and smiles triumphantly as they finish a particularly tricky verse with a triplet pattern; Aaron feels sick at the adoration plain on their face, knowing what he knows about their audience.

“Did you hear what I did there?” Laf asks as they breeze by with their hat. “Keep that verse in mind, I want to talk about the rhythm later -”

And then they’re gone, playing up the crowd, and there’s a shout of laughter from the assholes, likely directed at the swing in Lafayette’s hips and the faintest hint of lavender scent that breezes by.

* * *

“You okay?” Lafayette murmurs that evening as the squad settles in the living room.

“Fine,” Aaron says, determined not to tell her any of what he overheard in the audience. “Missed you yesterday. What did you get up to?”

“I found this little store, um, you know, that sells accessories and stuff, and I thought I’d see if I could find anything cute.”

“Did you?” Peggy is listening now, looking up from the floor where she and Herc sit playing Smash. Herc takes the opportunity to bump her off her platform while she’s distracted, and she looks back just in time to scream, “Jigglypuff, no! You were my champion!”

“Wrecked,” Hercules says, his voice rich with emotion. “RIP in fucking pieces. Jigglypuff, like, a billion, Peach one. Who says I suck at this?”

“I found some thigh highs,” Lafayette says. She grins her lopsided grin and shrugs noncommittally, producing a pair of long white socks. “I dunno if they’ll look good though.”

“You should try them on,” Angie says. Her head is in Teddy’s lap and Teddy is running her fingers through her hair.

“What do I wear them with, though?”

“Bam!” Hercules stops button mashing long enough to rummage through his backpack and throw Lafayette a pair of booty shorts in red, white and blue stripes.

“Do you just, like, have an entire closet in there? Or are you a conjurer?” Laf asks.

Herc resumes slamming his thumbs on his DS. “I keep making clothes for you and forgetting I did it. I’m gonna make you a dress, by the way. Found this super cute cotton print. Don’t even argue, it’s happening. I guessed your measurements. I’m probably right and if I’m not, well, that sucks. Peggy, you asshole, if I’m handing a girl clothes you need to fucking give me a time out, stop killing me - ”

“Jigglypuff a billion and one, Peach one. Enjoy that singular victory, Hercules.”

“Okay, thanks. I’m gonna go try these. These are super cool shorts, by the way. I like the colours.” Lafayette excuses herself and shuts herself in Aaron’s room.

“That’s surprising, I thought she hated those colours,” John says sarcastically from underneath Alex and Eliza. The three of them are piled together in a vaguely humanoid heap; every so often Alex will squirm a little and declare that he’s uncomfortable, but he never seems to be uncomfortable enough to move at all.

Aaron wonders exactly how long it takes to put on socks and shorts. Finally, after twenty minutes of watching Peggy destroy Hercules at Smash, he gets up to follow his datemate and finds her sitting on the floor of his bedroom, fighting back tears.

“What happened?” he asks, kneeling beside her.

“They don’t fit,” she says.

Aaron waits a moment to see if there’s more, and when she doesn’t continue, he prompts, “and?”

“Okay, _fuck_ you,” she snarls. “Like okay, maybe it isn’t a big deal to you, but do you know how hard this is for me? You _know_ what you are and I never know if I’m gonna stay the same hour to hour! You get to just have one closet full of clothes that make sense and I always have to worry about, like, are pants gonna suddenly be the worst thing in the world? Am I gonna love my beard one second and hate it the next? If I put on makeup, how long can I keep it on before I feel disgusting for owning eyeliner? I hear, all the time, everywhere, that there’s something wrong with me for being like this, and when I get brave enough to finally buy something that I think might look nice on me, something that I can wear in secret if I’m not brave enough to wear it in public, it doesn’t even fucking fit! You don’t know what this is like,” she hisses, “and you’re _never_ gonna know what this is like, and I hate how easy it is for you. I _hate_ it. Sometimes I hate _you_ for knowing who you are. Don’t you dare fucking act like this isn’t a big deal.”

The words hit like a hurricane and for a moment Aaron is lost and breathless, but this isn’t anything new; he’s heard this from Alex before, dozens of times, and he finds his footing quickly. There’s a twinge of anger and resentment deep in his chest, but he pushes it aside. He knows this isn’t about him.

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m being insensitive. This is really hard for you.”

“Yes it is,” Lafayette agrees warily, suspicion written clearly on her face.

“I don’t know what this is like. You’re the expert, and all I know is what you tell me. Tell me more about what’s going on for you,” Aaron says.

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“I do.” When Lafayette makes a disbelieving noise, he adds, “I promise. I love you, and I want you to have space to talk about this.”

“It’s not like you’d get it, even if I did explain,” she says.

“No, maybe not. But I’d know how to be better for you. Okay?”

“I -” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay. I just - thought they’d fit. Buying them was probably a pretty bad move on my part.”

“What kind of not fitting? Like, are they too short?”

“Too, like, too small width-wise. Can’t get them over my knee -” Suddenly she tears up again and Aaron pulls her against him. She cries into his shoulder, as quietly as possible, and Aaron kisses her forehead as she works through the distress.

“I’m sorry, princess. I know it’s hard. That’s really upsetting. What if you ask Teddy if she knows where to get socks?”

“Why would Teddy know?”

“She wears thigh highs, and her thighs are definitely bigger than yours,” Aaron says. “You want me to get her?”

“Um -” Lafayette wipes the tears off her face. “Is she gonna think I’m, you know, being ridiculous?”

“Not even a little.”

“I guess so, then.”

Aaron tilts her chin up and kisses her lips, and Laf melts a little. “Give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay,” Lafayette whispers, but she seems reluctant to let him go far enough away to poke his head out into the hallway.

Teddy, of course, is in full crisis-management mode as soon as Aaron calls for her. She thunders into the room and the second she sees Lafayette’s face, she’s on the floor, rubbing her back and asking, “did Aaron do something awful, boys are the worst -”

“It wasn’t him, it’s my socks,” Lafayette says.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“They don’t fit -” and then Lafayette is tearing up again, and Teddy laughs.

“Honey, no, don’t you even worry about that, I bet you they wouldn’t fit me either. I’m a big girl and when you got our kind of thighs, good thighs, you just need wider socks. Okay? So how about you get yourself feeling okay and then we’ll use Aaron’s credit card and I’ll help you pick out a few pairs to order. I know a great site and I promise _those_ ones will fit your legs.”

“Okay.” Lafayette laughs a little and admits, “I thought it was, like, a sign, you know? That I should stop trying to be pretty -”

“Shit, you don’t _need_ to try. You’re flawless. Let me see that smile, gorgeous.”

Lafayette can’t help but grin, and Teddy pretends to swoon.

“Killing me! Alright, you ready to go watch Herc cry about how much he sucks at video games?”

Laf rubs her eyes and gets up. “Yeah, okay,” she says, but Aaron doesn’t miss the way she stares at the socks lying crumpled on the floor.

* * *

Aaron doesn’t have any finals on Tuesday, but Alex does, which is why he’s surprised to see him in the living room at 11 AM.

“Didn’t you have a final?” Aaron asks.

Alex shrugs. “Probably.”

“Are you protesting or something? Cause I get that you hate most of your profs but this is probably not the way to -”

“Just relax.” Alex sinks further down into the couch and shakes his hair into his face. “That doesn’t have anything to do with why I’m not going.”

“Okay, so something’s going on. Do you need a medical exemption? I can take you to the clinic on campus and we can get you a note -”

“Fuck off!” Alex yells. His voice breaks and he turns dark red, bounces up and runs into his bedroom.

Aaron spends the two hours before Thomas comes over vibrating with anxiety. Any time he hears a noise from Alexander’s bedroom, he tenses; he has no idea what crime he’s committed and he’s terrified to find out. He can’t settle at all until Thomas is sitting beside him, but even then his stomach is twisting into knots.

It isn’t until John comes over mid-afternoon that Alex comes out of his room. His eyes are dark with anger and rimmed with red, though he’d never admit he was crying.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says before Alex can speak.

“It’s fine,” Alex mutters.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Alex glances at John, and then throws himself onto the couch, his shoulders tight and his face blank. “I dropped out. My brain is eating itself and I can’t take classes anymore.”

Aaron pauses and lets that sink in. “Okay,” he says.

“... okay.”

“So, are you going to be doing anything other than school? Like, did you find a job or -”

“Fuck, _seriously?_ No, I didn’t find a job. If you don’t want me here I can go live with John -”

Before Aaron can do damage control, John hisses uncomfortably between his teeth. “Shit, this, uh, this is really awkward,” he says. “Alex, you can’t come live with me.”

The silence is agonizing. Thomas excuses himself and putters about in the kitchen, ostensibly making coffee; Aaron is tempted to scream, _take me with you!_

“What do you mean?” Alex says. His voice is entirely devoid of emotion and completely monotone, and his eyes look strangely flat and shallow.

“You can’t live with me, Alex. I’m sorry. I’ll keep spending nights with you here, but -”

“No! No you won’t, go away. I can’t live here and I can’t live with you so what am I supposed to do?”

“You _can_ live here. This is your home too, Alex,” Aaron says. He reaches over and puts a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, and Alex smacks it away.

“Then what’s with all the questions about what I’m doing -”

“I just wanted to know what’s going on with you,” Aaron says. “Take a deep breath, okay? I’m not kicking you out. You belong here and I’m glad you’re my roommate. Who would fill my fridge with Monster if you weren’t here? Nothing is changing.”

Alex takes a deep breath. “Okay, so I can live here, but fuck - John, what the fuck -”

“What do you think my dad would say?” John asks. “I’d live with you if - you know, if life wasn’t … how it is. There are things going on, and I can’t tell you everything right now, but believe me -”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No, I’m not going to -”

Alex makes a strangled noise. Aaron excuses himself and joins Thomas in the kitchen.

“Can I take you out for dinner?” Thomas asks, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s waist.

“God, yes. Please. I am so exhausted. Are you performing today?”

Thomas suddenly looks very far away. “I think I might take a break, actually. Or cut down on how many days I do it. It’s been - weirder lately.”

“Weirder?”

“You know the pieces of paper people put in my hat - you know what, nevermind. Not important. Where do you want to go tonight?”

“Literally anywhere that isn’t here,” Aaron says.

“Wanna go now?” Thomas says.

“Early dinner, isn’t it?”

“Not early enough. Grab your coat.”

As they leave, they can hear the sounds of Alex breaking down all the way down the stairs.

* * *

Wednesday is when everything goes straight to hell.

Lafayette lets themself into the apartment earlier than Aaron expected.

“Hey, gorgeous, how was -” He stops dead when he sees their face, the words dying in his throat. He needs a moment to collect himself before asking, “what happened?”

“I think I’m taking a break. For a couple weeks. Maybe more.”

“Okay, Laf, but -”

“Don’t - don’t call me that. Just - forget all that shit for a while, okay?”

“Okay.” Aaron doesn’t press it. He sits Thomas down and wraps an arm around his shoulders. There’s silence that draws out; Thomas leans his head back and closes his eyes, and though his breathing seems a little laboured, it’s slow and fairly even.

“I wish we could go on vacation,” Thomas says finally.

“Well, my finals are done tomorrow. We could maybe go away for a couple days. Or pretend this is a hotel and just be really all over each other.”

“I’d like to get out of the city, even if it’s just overnight. You know?” Thomas turns to lean against Aaron, and then remembers his face paint. “Shit, there’s all this stuff on my face - did I leave any clothes here? I don’t want to be wearing this shit anymore.”

“There’s your fem stuff.”

“Can we just throw that shit away?”

“But you look so happy when you wear it. What happened?” Aaron asks.

In response, Thomas pushes a scrap of paper into his hand. Aaron glances at the word written on it and can’t hold back a grunt of horror. He crumples the paper in his hand and says, “you know that isn’t true -”

“Okay, but isn’t it? And that isn’t even the first one, just the one that hit hardest. I took a chance trying out being a little more, you know, during my performances, and it backfired. It backfired really badly. And I was a complete fucking doorknob and I gave my audience the perfect way to insult me without me ever finding out who it was.”

Aaron thinks back to Monday afternoon and the group who had laughed at Thomas and he feels his stomach turn over. _I should have said something, I should have warned him -_

“That doesn’t make it true, though,” Aaron says.

Thomas shrugs. “Either way, this whole gender thing has been a neat joke and I’m glad you all indulged me as long as you have, but I’m done.”

“You can’t just be done with your gender, Thomas.”

“Okay, well, I _am._ I’m done. If I ignore it, it’ll stop.”

“It won’t stop,” Aaron says.

Thomas is silent for a long time, jiggling one foot. Aaron waits. Finally Thomas shrugs and rubs one hand through the makeup on his face, smearing the colours through each other.

“Can’t you at least let me pretend that’s how it works?” he asks, and his voice is soft with pain.

* * *

 

“We’re going camping this weekend,” John says on Thursday.

Hercules looks up from his usual spot on the floor. “Finally,” he grunts around a mouthful of cereal. “Something is going to happen around here that doesn’t suck ass.”

“That sounds so unappealing,” Thomas mutters.

“Camping?” Aaron asks.

“No, sucking ass -”

“Gross,” Alex says with delight. “Who’s all coming?”

John starts, “I would say let’s do a boy’s trip, but I want Thomas to come -”

“That can still be a boy’s trip,” Thomas cuts in hurriedly.

“Dude, don’t be like that, you know John’s gonna respect your gender, what the hell,” Herc says.

“No, I mean, I’m not -”

“Be French,” Alex begs. “Like, the whole time. You kick _ass_ as Lafayette and I really need a fun time, come _on.”_

Thomas looks at Aaron for encouragement, and Aaron grins.

“Be French,” he says. “Why not?”

Thomas smiles, a broad, genuine smile, for what seems like the first time in ages.

“Okay, fuck it,” he says. “I’ll be French.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ok im sorry for all of this
> 
> comments and kudos are the calm in the storm of my life. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The camping trip is not a disaster! The gang does illegal gender magic in the woods.

John has a tent trailer, Herc has a truck, and Lafayette has so much inner turbulence that they could feasibly make mortal enemies just by looking at a plane.

“Do I really want to spend the whole weekend doing - you know -” They make a vague gesturing motion at themself.

“Being yourself and having a good time?” Aaron asks.

“Being exactly what got me that shit on Wednesday,” Lafayette says. “Being too, I dunno, flamboyant, too gay, too - you know.”

Aaron captures both their hands in his and kisses them. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” he says. “But I love the way your face lights up when you wear that shirt Herc made for you. I love how absorbed you are when you put on your eyeliner. I love seeing the way you hold yourself when you’re wearing your sparkly shoes. You walk like a queen, did you know that? And I love seeing that in you. So if you want to do that on our trip, I’ll support you every second. You know I will.”

Lafayette ends up wearing the same black jeans they wear when they work at the cafe, but that in itself isn’t a huge marker of masculinity; they’re skinny jeans and the way they’re cut accents their hips. And when they shove a couple of t-shirts into a backpack, Aaron notices that one of their choices is a boat neck floral tee.

They seem a little unsettled, still, putting on the trans flag shirt Herc screened for them. They emerge from Aaron’s bedroom pulling on a huge purple hoodie - although they leave the zipper open, which is a good sign - and half-covering the shirt with their hands, and Alex seems to notice their discomfort because he excuses himself.

“He seems excited,” Lafayette murmurs.

“He’s probably up to something,” Aaron agrees.

He absolutely is up to something. He practically bounces out of his room and points at his shirt. “Check it, Laf,” he says, grinning in a way Aaron hasn’t seen in weeks. “Now we match!”

His t-shirt reads _BOY: SOME ASSEMBLY REQUIRED._

Laf’s smile burns slow across her face and lights her eyes. She slings an arm over Alexander’s shoulders and kisses the top of his head. “You’re the best,” she tells him, and he headbutts her gently in agreement.

“Why isn’t there any food in your fridge?” John complains from the kitchen. Herc stands beside him, eating stale corn chips.

“Yeah, all your shit’s expired, dude,” he agrees, putting more chips in his mouth.

“Stop eating those,” Aaron says. “You’ll probably die, or get sick. Or both, in that order. We can pick up food on the way. I don’t remember the last time we actually had groceries.”

“I brought you groceries last week,” Laf protests.

“You brought me a singular apple and three bags of cookies -”

She laughs. “Oh yeah.”

Alex and John bring the bags down to Herc’s truck while Hercules gathers all the alcohol he can find in the apartment, which amounts to surprisingly little. “We need a beer run,” he says, on his way out of the apartment with a dozen cans of Monster and a flask of green Skittles vodka.

“You ready to go?” Aaron asks, but Laf pauses.

“Wait,” she says, and disappears into the bathroom. It isn’t long before she emerges, wearing eyeliner and a slight dusting of glitter in her beard. Aaron’s voice fails and he stares at her the way he always does when she’s like this - adoration and awe mixed together with disbelief that this beautiful person has chosen to be with him. “Now I’m ready,” she says, gripping his hand.

She’s never been out of the apartment like this, Aaron realizes. She’s worn eyeliner, yes, but only with her face painted for her act. She’s never been bare like this. It’s bold.

“I love you,” he says, and there’s so much more there, beneath those words. He puts as much warmth and strength into that statement as he can. It’s not just a fact; it’s a promise.

“I love you,” she says back, squeezing his hand as they leave.

There are no disasters. The world doesn’t end. They stand in the hallway as Aaron locks the door, and the ceiling doesn’t come crashing down; no one screams in horror; there is a distinct lack of a panicked stampede. Lafayette glitters in the bizarre weak hallway light. The world still spins.

She clings tight to him as they descend, but with each step she seems to loosen and walk taller.

Hercules has a crew cab pickup. He insists that the back seat has tons of leg room, but John kicks up a fuss and calls the front seat half a dozen times.

“I need the room for my long legs,” he says.

Lafayette, who is undeniably the tallest of all of them, raises her eyebrows, but gets in the back anyway. Aaron sits in the middle seat between her and Alex, which means his roommate and his datemate get a front row seat to his wrecking as Herc gets them out of the city.

“So you never told me who the other guy you were into was,” Herc says, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “Like, I know you ended up dating Laf, cause she’s right here, but who was the other person?”

Aaron squirms in his seat. “Uh, Thomas.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. Thomas and Laf are the same person.”

“Yes, I know -”

“So who was the other person?”

“Thomas,” Aaron repeats. Lafayette is shaking with silent laughter.

“No, they’re the _same person._ I want to know who the _other_ one was.”

“Yes,” Aaron says. “I know. I didn’t know before, but I know now.”

Herc pauses. “Wait,” he says finally.

“Listen, I didn’t -”

Hercules cuts him off. “You didn’t know?”

“He didn’t know,” Alex confirms.

“Not even a little,” Lafayette agrees.

Hercules turns around in his seat and stares at Aaron. “How did you not know?”

“Herc, the road!” John says.

“Like, putting aside the fact that they have the same face and the same voice -”

“HERC! The _road!”_ John roars.

Herc looks back just in time to slam on the brakes at a red light. John’s trailer jostles behind the truck; there’s the sound of glass breaking from the bed of the truck, and Alex moans, “the last of the vodka -”

“This is going to be a hell of a trip,” Aaron mutters.

Laf nods, already looking decidedly queasy.

“So you just thought,” Herc continues blithely like nothing happened, “that there were _two_ six-and-a-half foot tall bearded nerds who would fuck France -”

“I would _not_ fuck France,” Laf insists weakly.

“Gross, I don’t want to think about you fucking France,” Herc says.

“Then why did you -”

“Anyway,” Herc continues over her, “I’m actually a little, like, weirded out that you didn’t know. Do you forget who I am when I take off my hat? Do you lose the ability to recognize John if you go more than two days without seeing him? What is your _deal?”_

“I am not the most observant person,” Aaron says flatly.

“Probably the least observant person ever,” Hercules says, rolling straight through a light as it turns red.

“Please, _please_ let me drive,” John says.

“No way, dude, this truck is my baby, I’d die if anything happened to her, you are _not_ allowed to drive her -”

There’s a horrifying noise and suddenly Lafayette is holding her mouth and staring, mortified, at her window.

“Hey, did someone -” Herc turns around and catches sight of the vomit on the window, and for the first time since meeting him, Aaron sees what angry Hercules looks like.

The man is surprisingly composed. He pulls into the right lane and finds an alley to turn into - because it’s impossible to street park with the trailer hitched to the back of the truck - and once the truck is turned off, he gets out and wanders away.

“Where’s he going?” Lafayette asks softly, embarrassment plain in her voice.

“I’m not -”

Aaron stops. Hercules is yelling somewhere behind the car. No one says anything for a few minutes; the yelling is more angry than anything any of them have ever heard from him, but when he returns he has only a soft smile for Lafayette.

“Come on out of there, buddy,” he says, opening her door. “We have bottled water in the bed, and we can stop somewhere and grab you ginger ale or a mint tea or something.”

“I’ll clean that up,” Lafayette says, but Herc waves her away.

“Nope, don’t worry about it. Go sit down. Aaron can help me, though.”

“Of course I can,” Aaron says, trying to sound a little more willing than he feels.

 

* * *

 

Lafayette is given the front seat for the rest of the drive.

 

* * *

 

Herc finds the grocery store that sells his favourite mango cider and he convinces John and Alex to come in and stock up on alcohol and food with him.

“Or we could make Aaron go do it,” Alex suggests, dragging his feet like they weigh hundreds of pounds, “and then he can pay for it too.”

“Or John could pay,” Aaron suggests, but John laughs.

“Hey, remember how you asked Angie to call you Pockets -”

Aaron pulls his wallet out and throws it at Hercules, who pretends to spike it at the ground. “Don’t buy the entire store. And pick up some Gravol while you’re in there.”

Considering how useless the boys are at doing anything that doesn’t involve eating dry cereal or sucking at video games, Aaron figures he has at least twenty minutes with Lafayette. She leans against her window, her feet up on the dash, chewing gum idly; Aaron takes in the curves of her calves and can’t help saying, “I clearly don’t tell you often enough how beautiful you are.”

“No,” Laf agrees, smiling over her shoulder at him. “Definitely not. You should tell me more.”

“Your legs,” Aaron starts, and then he stops, realizing he’s lost the thread of his thought.

“My legs?”

“They’re really good for standing?” he says.

“Shit, you’re not wrong.”

“I know, I’m an expert at compliments. How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?”

“Well, my legs are apparently really good for standing, so I’d say I’m doing alright,” Laf says.

“Yes, thank you, I know I keep Burring things. Seriously, though, are you doing alright?” Aaron scoots forward in his seat and kisses her cheek. “Feeling sick still? How’s gender stuff?”

“I mean, I’m not gonna lie, I’m glad we aren’t getting out of the car. I don’t think I’d be ready to, you know, show off to anyone. But I forget sometimes that this isn’t - I guess, it isn’t normal. None of the guys are shitty about my makeup or my clothes and when I let my voice get higher, nobody acts like it’s weird. I dunno, it feels nice. I can forget there’s anything wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Aaron says. “I think you should talk to Alex more. He goes through periods where he gets all freaked out about gender, but it happens way less than it used to. I think these things just need time to settle, you know?”

“Maybe.” Lafayette doesn’t sound tremendously hopeful, but she turns and kisses his lips softly instead of arguing. Aaron melts into her. It’s incredible how the slightest touch of her lips against his is enough to make his heart pound and his head spin. He knows, from endless talks with Teddy, that this is the honeymoon phase - but what if it never ends? What if he never stops feeling like this, swooning when she glances at him, falling to pieces when she kisses him? He can’t think of anything else he wants more than to be devoted in this way for the rest of his life.

He shifts forward and changes the angle, his hand coming to rest on her thigh, and suddenly she’s fierce and hungry, nipping at his lip, drawing his mouth open so her tongue can slip in. Aaron feels her every movement like electricity; he would swear that the air around her crackles and sparks, and when she shifts or tilts her head or touches him, it’s like lightning piercing right to his core. The sensations of his body disappear, except for the pounding of his heart and the fire in his skin wherever she touches him.

“I love you,” he breathes against her lips, and she echoes it back through an avalanche of kisses, and nothing matters but her, the golden purr of her voice, the lines of her teeth when he opens his mouth on hers, the long fingers of her hand graceful against the side of his neck -

The back doors both open simultaneously, and John says, “ah, how the tables have tabled. For once, I can say: Aaron, stop making out where everyone can see you.”

Aaron jumps and sits back, and Alex’s grinning face appears to his left. “He’s been waiting to say that since the first time you told _us_ off for making out in the living room. You fucking deserved that, man -”

“You can make fun of us all you want, but we were both just kissing a perfect human being, so who’s the real loser?” Lafayette winks at John. “Are you jealous? You wanna be the one kissing me?”

“See, that’s not fair. I can’t even make a decent comeback. Like, I say ‘no’ and then that implies I don’t think you’re hot -”

“So you think she’s hot?” Herc says as he clambers into the front seat and hands a package of Gravol to Lafayette.

“Everyone thinks she’s hot! What, like I’m gonna be the one guy on the planet who says no -”

“Surprisingly straight of you, John Laurens,” Alexander says gravely.

“Shut the fuck off,” John mutters, slamming his door with far more force than necessary. Lafayette beams.

After far too long trapped in a cramped pickup cab with two of the most talkative people on the planet, Hercules finally pulls into the campsite at the state park. John, Alex, and Herc all seem like they can’t get out of the truck fast enough, but Lafayette sits still, staring out the window silently.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, putting a hand on her arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I just forgot that the drive was going to end eventually. And we aren’t even that far from home. What if someone recognizes me?” she asks.

“Well, we can handle that if it happens.”

“Okay, but what if someone sees me and gets nasty?”

“I’m here,” Aaron says. “Honestly, you probably couldn’t pick a better group to be doing this with. Between Alexander ‘I have never stopped talking since I was born’ Hamilton, John ‘I make friends by punching’ Laurens, and Hercules the wall, you’re safe as it gets.”

“Maybe I should take off my makeup before I get out,” Laf says uncertainly.

“There aren’t a ton of people around, so I don’t think anyone would notice, but if that makes you more comfortable -”

Lafayette fidgets a little, cracking her knuckles and then pressing on her fingers repeatedly once they’ve all been cracked. “Maybe I’ll just keep my makeup wipes with me,” she says finally. “Like, in my pocket. And that way if I get freaked out I can take it off really quickly.”

“Good idea. You ready to come make bad decisions with the guys?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, and she opens her door.

 

* * *

 

Herc gets a fire going, _mostly_ inside the fire pit, and John drags several sleeping bags out of the trailer. They sit around the fire, John and Alex snuggled together, Hercules wrapped around both Laf and Aaron.

(“This isn’t weird for you?” Aaron asks, as Herc curls around the pair.

“Nope. Everyone loves cuddles,” Hercules says.

“I thought you didn’t do romance -”

“Cuddles aren’t romance, dude, cuddles are for _everyone._ Like if you’re not cool with this I’ll back off, but seriously, who can say no to friend snuggles?”

“I love friend snuggles,” Lafayette says, back to her usual delighted self, and that settles the matter.)

“So, listen,” Alex says, meticulously peeling all the bark off a long stick. “While we’re here, Laf, you and I need to do some illegal gender magic.”

“I’m not sure what part of that sentence concerns me most,” Aaron says.

“Cis opinions can wait until I’ve explained the illegal gender magic to my friend here,” Alex tells him. “Anyway, here’s what’s happening. You’re having a shitty time and I’ve decided you need to have an _awesome_ time. Therefore, illegal gender magic. First thing we’re gonna do is burn your self doubt in effigy.”

“I - what?” Lafayette looks lost, but no less delighted. A half-smile hovers around her lips. “What self doubt?”

“Wrong answer. Here’s some paper -” Alex tosses her a notebook and a pen. “And you’re gonna write down all the things that give you dysphoria and all the shit that’s holding you back.”

“Is it really dysphoria if -”

“Like that. That’s self doubt. Nope, don’t tell me, just write it down. You get two minutes.” Lafayette seems taken aback and opens her mouth to protest, but Alex barks, “go!”

There’s the sound of furious scribbling. Aaron glances over and catches sight of a few sentence fragments - _never going to be pretty, too tall, sometimes beard, what if aaron isnt really attracted to me hes just pretending,_ and then he looks away, suddenly overcome with the realization that he’s peering into something deeply personal.

“I think I’m done,” Lafayette says, looking at her paper. She starts to read it over but Alex lunges and slaps a hand on it.

“Nope, you can’t reread it. That ruins the gender magic. So, okay, I want you to do another list. All the things that make you feel good about your gender and yourself.”

Lafayette touches her beard. Her fingers come away glittery and she smiles. “Is this enough?”

“Wipe it on your paper,” Alex says solemnly. “That’s good for the gender magic.”

She wipes the glitter on the paper and sets to work. This list is far shorter, but there are at least a dozen things on it, which gives Aaron a little burst of joy. At least she has that much.

Lafayette hands both papers to Alex. He folds the first one, the negative one, in half, and takes the pen back to draw a vague approximation of a person on it.

“Nice anatomy,” John says sarcastically.

“Shut up, it’s a metaphor. It doesn’t need to be perfect,” Alex says. “Okay, hold this stick -”

John snickers.

“Shut _up._ Take this stick and hold your negativity on it, and we’re gonna sacrifice it to the gender gods -”

“Oh gender gods, please bless us with a rain of gender,” Hercules says, “my gender crops are failing, we won’t have enough gender for the whole village come harvest.”

“Praise be to the gender gods!” John says.

“Is it just me, or has the word ‘gender’ lost all meaning?” Aaron asks.

“All three of you suck,” Alex says, handing the stick to Lafayette. He pokes the tip through the paper and adds, “okay, burn that mother down.”

Lafayette slowly lowers the paper into the fire. It catches immediately, burning fast, ash floating away on the wind. Her face lights up with excitement and she says, “I thought you were just being weird, but that feels _really_ good.”

“Bye, shitty thoughts!” Alex says.

“Come back never,” Lafayette says, and she laughs, a full, rich sound that rocks her whole body.

Alex, meanwhile, is scribbling something on the other side of Lafayette’s positive paper. “We’re all gonna write something down,” he says, “something we like or appreciate about your gender or your presentation. So I’m probably taking up, like, all the space, but John, you’re next, and then you, Hercules, and then Aaron, and then you can have it back, Lafayette, and then I want you to eat the paper and that completes the magic.”

“I’m sorry, you want me to -”

“Or don’t eat it. Just carry it forever with you and never forget these good illegal gender magic times, I dunno, I’m not an expert. Here,” he says, shoving the paper into John’s hands. John doesn’t need any time to think; he goes to it with a will, cramming words into what little space Alex has left. He’s done quickly, and he clips the pen to the paper and tosses it to Hercules, who writes in a large, untidy scrawl in the margin. Then it’s Aaron’s turn, and he takes a moment to read snippets of what’s been written.

\- you light up the room when you walk in  
\- i would sell my left nut to pull off eyeliner the way you do  
\- the way you wear your crop tops gives me religion

He tears up a little but manages to hold himself together long enough to find space on the front of the paper, just under Lafayette’s writing, and he loses himself in words. He hasn’t written like this ever before; he pours his whole heart into it, and suddenly he understands just what Alex was getting at when he argued about word limit with his prof. There aren’t enough words that exist to convey how he feels for Lafayette; he describes the way she turns her head, the leonine curl of her lips when she grins, the way she crosses one leg over the other, the slow motion of her spine when she dances. He writes about all the parts of her body he adores, all the parts he loves to kiss, the way he daydreams about her hands or the sway of her hips. He writes about the growl of her voice and the way it reaches deep inside him and grips his heart. And just before he runs out of room, he manages to squeeze in, _I will always love you, every part of you, because you taught me that perfection really does exist, and her name is Lafayette._

He drags himself out of a heavy trance and looks up to find her looking at him. Aaron meets her eyes levelly; they’re deep brown, so dark they look black in this light, and he’s surprised to realize he’s been crying a little.

“Hey,” he says, and he wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “Sorry, I probably got a little carried away.”

She kisses him softly, a hint of a promise of more to come, and takes the paper from him. “Thank you,” she says. Lafayette says it to him, but she says it loud enough that everyone else can hear, and there are little murmurs from the other three, things that might be _you’re welcome_ but are probably more along the lines of _no, thank you._ There’s something in the air between the five of them now; for the first time, Aaron feels like he belongs. He feels exposed, he feels known when before all he’s felt is hidden, and what really gets him is that he actually doesn’t mind the exposure all that much. It feels raw; it feels real.

For a moment, there’s nothing but wind through the trees and the crackle of the fire. Then Hercules stirs a little, wrapping tighter around Aaron and Lafayette.

“Gender magic is some cool fuckin stuff, man,” he says softly, his voice full of something close to reverence.

 

* * *

 

The trailer is tiny and cramped. Even with the awning fully extended, it’s only meant to sleep three adults, so the question of how to fit two more adults (although John stubbornly exists Alex _acts_ like he’s five, so he should fit into a bed like he’s five) is only solved when Hercules announces he’s going to share a bed with whoever complains the most.

“I have literally never complained in my life, which makes that a moot point,” Alex says. “Also I’m taking my binder off and you don’t want to see the titty, so sleep with Laf and Aaron.”

“I can’t share a bed with my buddy’s girlfriend,” Hercules says.

“Don’t be antiquated, you aren’t going to taint her,” John says. “Besides, I want Alex’s titties to myself -”

“I don’t want your boyfriend’s titties, dude, I don’t want _anyone’s_ titties but my own.”

“Is it just me or is the word ‘titties’ just supremely unappealing?” Aaron asks.

“Y’all are still complaining so you’ve lost the right to beds,” Herc cuts in. “I am now bed god. I determine who sleeps where. Aaron and Lafayette get a bed to themselves because they’re fucking adorable.”

“But are they adorable fucking?” John asks.

“Shut up,” Alex tells him warmly.

Eventually they all manage to get into bed, but Alex grumbles about removing his binder. “Seriously, Herc, like, I don’t want you to get weirded out about titties -”

“Would it help if I was shirtless too?” Lafayette asks from the other end of the trailer.

“I mean, maybe?” Alex says. “Although I’m not sure exactly how that’s supposed to -”

“Because I’m shirtless,” Laf says. “Check out these titties.” She sits up and flexes a little and Alex pretends to swoon.

“Alright, that’s fine. Binder coming off,” he says. “No one comment on my titties.”

“You have been the only one bringing up your titties. You’re fine, no one is going to be commenting on your titties. That word is now entirely meaningless and we are going to sleep. Good _night,”_ Aaron says, snuggling up to Lafayette.

“Hey,” she murmurs. He kisses her neck, not as any kind of seduction move, but because his lips are near her skin and he wants contact. Every point of touch between them is alight; he’s half-hard, but he doesn’t need to do anything about it. It’s enough just to be near her.

“Hey,” he says back, trailing his fingers up and down along her chest and stomach. His touch his light and it raises goosebumps on her skin. “How was tonight?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone use the word ‘girlfriend’ to refer to me. It’s nice,” she whispers. “I like being your girlfriend.”

“Well, I like you being my girlfriend. I think it fits you.”

“Yeah? How come?”

“You’re always so bubbly and bright when you’re feminine. I mean, I love you all the time, but there are different things I love about you when you shift, you know? When you’re more Thomas, you’re solid and protective and snarly, and a big awkward loser. And I love that. And when you’re like this, you’re breezy and light and gentle, and I love that too. You glow. You’re practically glowing right now.”

“Saves on electricity bills,” she says, and Aaron stifles a laugh against her neck.

“You’re not wrong,” he says.

She shifts a little and there’s more contact between them, their bodies pressed tighter together, just long enough for her to feel the half-hard length of his cock, barely stirring. “You need anything?” she asks, nodding down to acknowledge what she means.

“Not really. I think - I mean, up til now, we’ve done something about it every time either one of us gets worked up. I want to want you, if that makes sense. And when we get back -” He kisses her neck again, but this time it’s a tease, his lips open just enough that his teeth make contact with her skin, just for an instant. “Maybe I’ll make good on that offer to suck you off.”

She turns and kisses him voraciously. When she breaks away, she pulls him closer and murmurs, “I’d like that, if you’re ready.”

“Jesus,” John’s voice comes from the end of the trailer. “And I thought _we_ were annoying.”

“Yeah, we may as well have sex right now, if you two are going to be whispering romantic shit to each other all night long -”

Hercules bellows, “what have I done to deserve this?”

“Sleep time, maybe,” Aaron whispers, fighting back laughter.

“I love you,” Laf chuckles.

“I love you too,” he says, settling his head on her shoulder and pulling the covers closer around them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i, too, have done illegal gender magic in the woods. comments and kudos fuel my witchcraft. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Great googly moogly it's all gone to shit.

Aaron grunts as Lafayette shakes his shoulder. “Hey, sleepy face,” she whispers. “Everyone else has been up for a couple hours. You want lunch?”

“Mmhm,” Aaron hums. He stretches and yawns and rolls into her, nuzzling his face against her.

“Don’t get all snuggly or I’ll want to come join you. Come on, get up, kitten.”

“It’s getting harder to get up,” Aaron manages. He sits up and another yawn shudders through him. Lafayette pulls one of his t-shirts from his bag and wrestles it onto him while he flops about more or less completely uselessly.

“I knew your schedule was too much,” she says as puts his sweater on him.

“No, I don’t think it’s the schedule. Finals just happened and I don’t have any more classes for a couple weeks, and I’m taking eight next semester instead of nine, so that’s fine. I think it’s the depression. Maybe I need to adjust my meds.” Aaron swings his legs off the bed to stand, and immediately has to sit back down. “Ooh. Head rush. Side effects are getting weird too, so all the more reason to adjust.”

“Are you sure it’s meds you need? Like, maybe we can do some lifestyle changes instead,” Lafayette suggests. “Diet? Exercise? We could work out together. It works for me.”

“Do you have depression?” Aaron asks, annoyance pricking at him.

“Well, no, but I know how it feels to get down, you know? And working out always helps me,” Lafayette says.

“No offense, but if you don’t have depression then you don’t really know how it works. Trust me, I’ve been living with this for well over a decade. I know what works for me.” It’s a struggle to keep from going off. He knows she means well, but he’s tired of hearing the same shit from what feels like a hundred different mouths. He doesn’t need to hear it from the person he counts on for safety.

Lafayette’s lips draw into a line, but she doesn’t say anything else. Aaron finishes getting dressed in silence. Neither of them speak as they leave the trailer.

“Hey, nerd,” Alex says, looking up from the fire. “Did you died? I knew you were the lazy one but this is excessive.”

The irritation gathers and condenses inside Aaron, swelling in his chest like a thundercloud. “Be nice,” he says, trying to keep his voice pleasant and light. “I’m really grumpy and I need you to be gentle.”

“What’s got you so grumpy?” Hercules asks.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he says, which of  _ course  _ makes Hercules and Alex make sympathetic noises, and Aaron sees Lafayette stiffen out of the corner of his eye. He’s just made her the villain, and he feels a little bit of regret at speaking without thinking, but he’s distressed to find that part of him doesn’t actually feel all that bad.

John hands him a hot dog and he eats it slowly. He isn’t really hungry, but he needs to get some food in him before he takes his pills - which, he suddenly realizes with a sickening feeling, he left on his desk, right where they always are.

“I didn’t bring my meds,” he announces, and suddenly Alex makes a horrified face.

“Me neither,” he says.

Lafayette starts to say something, but she closes her mouth and hums instead. Aaron glances at her, at her raised eyebrows and the tight line of her lips, and almost snaps at her. He catches himself at the last second.

“We should probably get you back today instead of tomorrow, then,” John says, glancing at Alex. “Are you going to be level enough until we get back?”

“Probably? Shit, now that I’ve noticed, I’m starting to freak out.” Alex jiggles his leg.

“Drink a Monster and keep breathing, Alex,” Aaron says. “We’ll make sure you’re okay. I’m gonna go double check my bag and see if I did bring them along, want me to check yours too?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, staring at his hands.

Aaron puts his food down and goes back into the trailer, Lafayette following him. He methodically searches through his backpack, knowing the whole time that no matter how carefully he searches, it won’t make his meds appear. There’s some faint hope that maybe an old bottle is in one of the side pockets, but when he’s pulled everything out - including a wad of crumpled course outlines stuffed into the laptop pocket, some of which are a year old - he has to concede that he’s shit out of luck until they get home.

“Maybe this isn’t a terrible thing,” Lafayette says. “Can I just say something?”

“Can I stop you?” Aaron mutters, shoving his clothes back into his backpack.

“Maybe you can just take today to not take your pills and see how you feel. I’ll make you a good, healthy dinner, we can go for a walk in the woods before we leave, and I bet you’ll feel great by the end of the day.”

“I get that you probably don’t have a ton of experience with psychiatric medication, but just  _ not  _ taking it is a really bad idea. If you go off, you have to taper off, or it fucks you up.” He has more but Laf cuts in.

“That probably says something about what it does to your brain, then -”

“It keeps me having a brain,” Aaron says, loud enough that she stops talking. “By making sure I don’t blow it to pieces.”

Lafayette recoils with disgust. “That’s not funny. That’s not a joke.”

“No,” Aaron says, “it isn’t.”

He regrets those words the moment they leave his mouth, and when Lafayette’s expression changes to one of condescending pity, he knows just how badly he’s fucked up. He’d rather see anger - shit, he’d rather see plain repugnance - but there’s no taking back what he’s said, so he lets it sit. The words are heavy between them; the last traces of them taste foul on his tongue.

“That’s never the way out,” Lafayette begins, and Aaron knows  _ exactly  _ what’s coming. He’s heard it a million times before from a million well-meaning yet sanctimonious mouths; he could practically talk along with her.

“Don’t,” he says, a half-hearted warning, but she plows ahead.

“There’s so much that’s good in your life, and I really think that doing …  _ that  _ … is more cowardly than just -”

“Stop talking,” Aaron says. “Stop talking, right now. Don’t you  _ ever  _ call that cowardly, because it isn’t. Unless  _ you’ve  _ been in that situation, you don’t know what it’s like.” He takes a deep breath and tries to still the painful quivering inside him. Distress beats at his ribcage like frantic wingbeats. “I need you to disengage and stop telling me how to manage my health. I don’t know what you’re not getting, but taking meds away from me is not helpful, it’s not saving me, it’s not healthier. It would be  _ killing  _ me. My life is not worth living when I’m low. And you need to listen to me and believe that I know what I’m doing, because I’ve been figuring this out for ten years, and you don’t know shit about it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, you can’t just order me around. I’m not as ignorant as you think I am,” Lafayette says. Her voice raises slightly and Aaron walks away, looking for Alexander’s backpack. He tries to drown her out by busying his hands searching for Alex’s pills, but the words break through anyway. “I know how shitty things can get, and I don’t know why you think I’m so ignorant. All I’m saying is maybe there are healthier ways to be level. I don’t know why you’re so upset about that.”

“I don’t want to have this fight with you,” Aaron tells her.

“Then don’t fight, just listen to me -”

“If I had diabetes would you take away my insulin and tell me to just eat better?” he snarls. “If I had a broken leg would you cut off my cast and tell me to walk it off? Just because it isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not real, and you’re treating me like a  _ child  _ who can’t make his own decisions. I haven’t had anyone in my life to figure this shit out for me. I’ve had to do it all by myself, and I have found what works. So you need to get used to the fact that I’m being as healthy as I can and taking initiative to keep my mental health under control, and if you don’t accept that then we just aren’t going to work out.”

Lafayette is furious now; the anger vibrates through her, manifesting in shaking hands and half-bared teeth. “So you’re willing to throw away our relationship because I disagree with you about medication?”

“No, I don’t want to break up with you, but I want you to trust me when it comes to my medical decisions!” He shouts this, and then cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I am so, so fucking tired, Lafayette. I’m exhausted. I’m not going to fight you. I can guarantee that they can hear us out there and I don’t want to do this publicly. Can we please,  _ please _ just drop this.”

“Okay,” she snaps. “But I’m still pissed off that you’re not taking me seriously on this. You’re overreacting and I didn’t even say anything bad.”

He’s tempted to push back; he doesn’t want her to have the last word - but he drops it, ignoring the urge to hurt her. He tries to reason with himself. None of this is malicious, he knows that - at least not in intent. He  _ knows  _ she wants him to be safe. But he doesn’t have the energy to educate someone who won’t listen. There’s a sudden impulse to call her out, to compare the way he treats her gender identity with the way she’s treating his mental health, but he shoves that away. He knows that following that impulse would be more painful than anything else he could say to her.

“We can talk about this later. I love you,” Aaron says, swallowing his pride.

“Yeah,” Lafayette says, and she leaves the trailer.

 

* * *

 

They get packed up fairly quickly. Alex nurses a Monster, jiggling anxiously in the back seat; Aaron feels relief that he doesn’t need to sit next to Lafayette. There’s a thick silence in the cab as Herc starts the truck and pulls out of the campsite.

“So I’m gonna take an ASL class,” Alex says suddenly. Aaron jumps a little.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, struggling to engage through the fog of anxiety.

“Eliza found this course at a community college,” Alex says. “It’s not super expensive and I’ve always wanted to learn another language, and the department is all run by Deaf folks, and also I was watching some videos of Spring Awakening, you know, the one that was done in ASL, and I want to be able to do that. And then I’m not just sitting around all day being useless.”

“You’re never useless,” John says. “Maybe you can teach me sometime.”

“You could take the class with us,” Alex says hopefully. “Eliza’s gonna do it too.”

John smiles. “I don’t think I can,” he says.

“Why not?” Alex asks, and then he immediately cuts himself off. “Nevermind.”

Silence draws out again, agonizing, thundering in Aaron’s ears.

 

* * *

 

Herc pulls in to get gas and he, John and Alex pile out to go on a snack heist. Aaron sits in the back, quietly waiting for Lafayette to say something; Lafayette sits in the front, tense and wordless. 

“Hey,” Aaron says finally. The word is shaky, having wrestled past the knot in his chest.

“Hey,” she says, noncommittal, apathetic.

“How are you doing?”

“I’d really rather not talk to you right now,” she says flatly. “I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like I’m an ignorant child.”

Anger flares, sharp and sudden, and the anxiety jumps. “Okay,” he says. It’s tempting to say so much more, but he settles for that. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she says.

They sit in silence until the guys return.

 

* * *

 

Herc drops Alex, Aaron and Lafayette off, and he and John leave to return the trailer to John’s dad’s place. Aaron almost asks if he can tag along, but with the way Lafayette is glowering, he knows the longer he waits, the worse it’s going to be.

Still, when he unlocks the door and Alex disappears into his room, he can’t help the sickening lurch of anxiety in his chest. There’s no buffer now, and it’s just him and Laf, standing in the living room, staring at each other.

“I’m going to take my pill,” Aaron says evenly. “And then if you want to talk this out, I think the sooner we do it, the better.”

“Okay,” Lafayette says. She follows him to his bedroom, which is the opposite of what he wanted - he was banking on the time alone to clear his mind and centre himself, but he’s lost the chance. It unsettles him; he feels unbalanced, staggering off centre and flailing for any kind of hold to get him upright and steady again. There are no holds within reach and he flounders hopelessly as she sits at his desk and starts speaking.

“So why did you have to be so condescending?” she asks. “I was just giving you an opinion and I don’t see what was so wrong with that.”

“Your opinion was one that can cause me serious harm,” Aaron says.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything, though, I’m just talking about shit! What’s so bad about words?”

“You of all people should know, considering what you were crying about on Wednesday.” Aaron stops dead, and then hurries to add, “that was a mistake, I didn’t mean to come across that way, that wasn’t fair of me -”

“You act like that wasn’t a big deal,” Lafayette says, and her breath is hitching in her chest. “I was fucking  _ scared _ and I thought you understood that!”

“I did! And you had every right to be scared, and you still have every right to be upset, but you should understand that speculating about my depression and my medication isn’t just tossing around ideas casually, it directly involves my ability to be  _ alive  _ -”

“It’s not like I’m taking your drugs away, Jesus fucking Christ, I’m just  _ telling  _ you that maybe putting chemicals in your body isn’t always a great idea -”

“I’ve been doing this since I was  _ twelve _ and I had to fight to get to where I am, and I still fucking hate my life and it’s hard to see any point in this if I’m never going to be happy, and the only things I even have anymore are my meds and  _ you _ and you’re not  _ listening  _ -”

“Don’t try and guilt trip me, don’t say shit like that, that’s fucking manipulative to try and twist it around like that, I’m not responsible for whatever shit is going on in your head!”

Aaron laughs bitterly. “Teddy always says the first fight is the worst, but fuck, I didn’t think it was going to be like this.”

“Can you just - not - fucking - bring Teddy up for  _ two seconds. _ I don’t need to hear about her every time we do anything or talk about anything, it makes me feel really fucking inferior, like I’m second best,” Lafayette snaps.

“I didn’t know I was even bringing her up that much,” Aaron says, but it’s too late.

“I know that’s she’s the most special person in the world or whatever but you’re dating  _ me _ and I’m really tired of always being compared to her! I bet you’re going to say that Teddy wouldn’t be upset right now or something and then I’ll feel even worse -”

“I’m not going to bring her up again because you asked me not to,” Aaron says.

“And now you’re being smug,” Lafayette says. “Acting like you’re better than me because you’re all calm and shit.”

“I am  _ not  _ calm. I’m pissed as hell and you keep fucking escalating and it is really, really hard not to just yell at you right now. I just want to calm the fuck down and talk about this rationally, so can you  _ please _ stop jumping down my throat?”

That seems to be the last straw, because Lafayette snarls, “yeah, apparently the only thing you want going down your throat is more drugs.”

They both go quiet, staring at each other. 

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Aaron says.

Lafayette’s expression changes instantly from rage to concern, and she leans forward a little, reaching out towards him. “Aaron -”

“Get out of my home,” he says evenly, surprised at how level his voice is. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Leave my home.”

The moment she’s gone, his legs give out. He sits on the floor, trying to even his breathing; and when that fails, when he knows it’s pointless to try anymore, he takes a seroquel and gets in bed.

He almost feels guilty for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dicks out for comments and kudos. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](http://alexangery.tumblr.com)


	16. Chapter 16

**John:**   
hey guys can we have at least one last dinner together please

**John:**   
just one that’s all im asking it’s really important

**Herc:**   
wait why just one

**Herc:**   
nvm alex just told me

**Teddy bear:**   
aaron? youre coming right

 

* * *

 

**Teddy bear:**  
aaron?

 

* * *

 

 

**Me:  
** Fine.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending, of sorts.

**Jefferson ( <3?):**  
can I come over early and talk to you?

**Me:**  
Sure.

**Jefferson ( <3?):** **  
** are you mad at me?

**Me:**  
No.

**Me:**  
Not anymore.

**Me:**  
But we definitely need to talk.

**Jefferson ( <3?):**  
yeah. yeah i agree. see you soon i guess.

 

Thomas shows up at 6, an hour before anyone else is supposed to arrive. He doesn’t let himself into the apartment; he buzzes instead, from downstairs, and Aaron is surprised at the leap in his heart at the sound of his voice, made scratchy by the intercom.

When they’re finally face to face after a week of no contact, Aaron can’t help but look him over thoroughly. His beard is rougher, not as well trimmed or maintained; his hair is hidden under a beanie, which is new; and his clothes are about as masculine as you can get - all hard edges and boxy shapes, showing off the sharp lines of his shoulders.

So it’s definitely a masculine day.

“Hey,” Aaron says.

“Hey,” says Thomas. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Aaron gestures at the couch. “Uh, John and Alex are here, they’re in Alex’s room, but no one else is yet. So we can talk out here if you want but if you’d rather have privacy -”

“No, out here is fine. I don’t know if you’d - if you’d want me in your bedroom, you know, your safe space.” Thomas scuffs the toe of one shoe against the floor. Aaron doesn’t reply; he just moves to the couch and sits down at one end, and after a moment Thomas follows him and sits at the other.

“Look,” Thomas says gruffly, “this is really not easy for me. So, uh, I’m gonna need you to be patient with me.”

“Okay,” says Aaron.

“First of all, I fucked up. I obviously don’t understand what shit is like for you so after I cooled down, I did some research. Like, I googled depression, but it didn’t really get me anywhere until I found a support forum.”

“Oh?” Despite himself, Aaron leans forward, losing a little of his guarded detachment.

“Yeah - like, it was a bunch of people talking about their experiences. And there was this whole thread for venting, like, shit that was really super rough, and pretty much everyone mentioned one particular thing.” Thomas pauses and takes several deep breaths. When he speaks again, his voice is even more gravelly; every word seems like a tremendous effort. “Everyone, like, every single person in that thread, said that the  _ worst _ thing was invalidation. And a lot of what they mentioned was - well, what I said to you. Not taking medication seriously. Minimizing shit. Talking about remedies when I don’t actually know what depression is like. Like, fuck, even just comparing depression to being sad. So I -”

Thomas stops again, and shakes his head. Aaron leans forward and reaches a hand out. “You can keep talking,” he says. “You’re doing great.”

“See, that’s the thing though! I  _ thought _ I was doing really well and I didn’t understand why you got so upset, and it was just ‘cause I wasn’t listening. So I went and I did some research and I - shit, I mean, you probably know where this is heading.”

“I think I do, but it’s important to hear it all.”

Thomas looks at him helplessly. “If you know, do I  _ have _ to say it?”

“I wouldn’t insist on it if it wasn’t important. I know this is hard for you, and I hate seeing you struggle - but I think I really, really need to hear it,” Aaron says. “I’m not trying to punish you or anything, it just - would mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says. “Yeah. I understand. Uh, shit, I don’t usually do this, so I’m not … really good at it, I guess.”

“Doesn’t need to be perfect.”

“I know, but I  _ want _ it to be. I want it to make up for everything -”

“Saying it is the first step, Thomas, not the last.”

“Fuck, there’s more after this?” Thomas blurts. He puts his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean that, shit. I just - this is not something I’m used to. I don’t make up with people a lot, I kinda just -”

“Walk away?” Aaron asks.

“Yeah. But I don’t want that with you.”

“Say it, Thomas. Please.”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas says. He makes eye contact for a moment and then looks away, tears brimming in his eyes but not quite spilling over. “I’m sorry for assuming what things are like for you, and I’m sorry for pushing my opinions on you, and I’m sorry that I blamed you for reacting when I should have backed off. I fucked up.”

“I forgive you,” Aaron says. Thomas looks at him with disbelief.

“Just - just like that?”

“Yeah. But I need you to understand that when it comes to stuff like that, I’m the expert. Okay? So I need you to listen to me in the future.”

“Okay,” Thomas says.

“Two more things. First, I’m sorry I got so sharp with you.”

“Jesus.” Thomas laughs. “No, Aaron, don’t apologize to me. You don’t have anything to be sorry for, honestly.”

“I don’t like reacting with anger, and I know I hurt you. So I’m sorry for that. I don’t want to be the person who hurts you - I want to be the person who builds you up. And secondly, if we’re going to make this last, you’re going to need to get used to apologizing. We’re both going to fuck up, and we’re both going to work at fucking up  _ less. _ Okay?”

“I thought you’d already be done with me,” Thomas admits. “Like, I thought you’d be ready to just move on and get this shit in the past -”

“No,” Aaron says. “I’m still pretty deep in love with you, and if I’m never living down the whole both-crushes-are-the-same-person thing, I may as well get something good out of it, you know?”

Thomas doesn’t answer in words. He moves closer, then pauses and asks breathlessly, “can I -?”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, and then Thomas is holding him, fingers under his chin, tipping his face up, and their lips meet and a sigh gusts from somewhere deep inside him. It feels like he hasn’t breathed properly in days, and now he fills with light, buoyed up by Thomas’s kiss. All of the anxiety and distress he’s been keeping secret from himself breaks free and dissipates; there’s still talking to be done, he knows, but it’s enough for now just to lose himself in this kiss.

“I was really worried I’d never do this again,” Thomas murmurs against his lips.

“I was really worried you’d never  _ want _ to do this again,” Aaron admits.

“What, like I could ever stop kissing you? I’ve missed you so much, Aaron.”

“I’ve missed you too -”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, I wouldn’t know who I am without your help, you helped give me an identity -”

“We have an hour,” Aaron says, as Thomas kisses down the side of his neck. “And Alex and John are busy and I need to get my hands on you - if you want to, I mean, but I’d like to work some stuff out with you, you know, maybe we should go to my room -”

“From no contact to full contact in ten minutes. I should argue with you more often.”

“Do  _ not, _ because you want to stay on my good side,” Aaron says.

“You don’t have a bad side,” Thomas tells him. “You’re flawless.”

“Yes, you’re very charming. Are you taking me to bed or not?”

Thomas grins his leonine grin, the flash of his teeth a dangerous promise, and the light in Aaron’s chest spills over.

 

* * *

 

Aaron is dimly aware of the passage of time when he surfaces for air between the kisses. For a while, he resolves to stay on top of it, and then he’s on top of Thomas instead and everything else fades.

 

* * *

 

Lying together in a jumbled heap, limbs tangled in ways that shouldn’t be possible, Aaron and Thomas curl into the warmth of each other’s bodies and knot tight. Aaron’s breathing slows and his heart stops galloping as he ghosts his lips over Thomas’s skin. He favours the more tender places - his jugular notch, the sensitive skin on his stomach, his abdomen, the spot on his throat where his stubble ends. Thomas chuckles, his chest quaking with the laughter.

“It’s like you’re trying to eat me, but you’re really bad at it,” he says.

“I’m the world’s worst cannibal,” Aaron agrees.

“I feel like being shitty at vore is, if anything, a  _ positive _ character trait.”

“Don’t kinkshame me in my own home,” Aaron says, and he nips Thomas’s chest.

There’s a buzzing from the intercom and Aaron groans, his mouth still resting gently on Thomas’s skin. With some difficulty, he mumbles through his mouthful, “I don’t want to get up yet.”

“An hour isn’t enough,” Thomas agrees. He pauses and adds, “if you don’t want me to, I totally understand, but I’d like to - I mean, I wouldn’t mind -”

“If you want then you can - like, if you’re not -” Aaron props himself up on his arms and laughs. “Just say it, we’re not getting anywhere.”

“Can I spend the night?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Thomas pulls Aaron down for a final lingering kiss, and then rolls out of bed and struggles into his clothes. “So I guess dinner’s gonna be a lot easier now that we’ve figured all that out.”

“I think we all need a good time,” Aaron agrees.

 

* * *

 

It seems not everyone got the memo about dinner being easier.

Eliza is the first to arrive, with Peggy in tow. “Angie’s on her way with Teddy,” she says, her voice curiously flat. “Hey, Thomas. Hey, Aaron. How’s it going?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Aaron says, “because Thomas and I talked everything out and -”

“That’s great,” she says, clearly uninterested. She folds herself into a ball on the couch between Alex and John, resting her head on Alexander’s shoulder.

Peggy just sits on the carpet, looking equal parts disgruntled and confused. “Boring as shit here without Hercules around,” she mutters, just loud enough that Aaron can hear. He chooses not to respond.

Luckily for Peggy, Hercules shows up next. Alex answers the door; Herc folds him in a massive hug, eyes suspiciously damp. “Hey dude,” he says. When he pulls back and looks at Alex’s face, it’s like he’s looking at a ghost. Aaron feels anxiety condensing in his chest as Herc makes his rounds, slowly and deliberately hugging everyone with the air of a condemned man saying his final goodbyes.

“Are you okay?” Aaron can’t help asking as Hercules hugs him.

“I’m fine, dude,” Herc says, showing his teeth in a painfully fake smile, “totally cool, everything’s good. How are you? You okay?”

“Yeah, Thomas and I are okay -”

“Shit! I forgot that was a thing, you’re both fine? Promise you’re okay?”

“We’re fine,” Thomas says, and Herc lunges to hug him next.

“I’m really, really glad. You’re adorable together, it’s fucking disgusting, don’t ever stop being cute. Life is too short -” and he cuts himself off, sniffling loudly.

Eliza’s lips thin into a line and John looks away from Hercules. Alex can’t seem to react properly. He moves like a broken marionette, his limbs jerking in vague directions, motions that might have started intentionally but wind up looking like the aborted throes of a dying animal.

Peggy busies herself with her phone, pointedly ignoring everything. Hercules settles beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I love you, dude,” he tells her. “Just in case you ever forget.”

Aaron’s anxiety ramps up. He struggles to get enough air into his lungs.

Teddy and Angie arrive last. They both look frazzled; Angelica’s skirt and jacket are both rumpled and her hair isn’t as neatly combed as usual, and Teddy’s braids seem to have had some sort of revolution and settled on anarchy as the best course of action. As she walks in the door, she pulls them into some semblance of order, but they quickly swing out of place again as Alex reaches out, grabs her hand, and pulls her towards him.

“I brought you some food, honey,” she says, handing him a lemon loaf. “And I ordered pizza. You need anything?”

Alex shakes his head; Eliza nestles closer to him.

Angie presses a kiss to the top of Eliza’s head and Aaron pulls Teddy aside. “What’s going on?” he hisses. “I thought everyone was being weird because of me and Thomas, but -”

“No, I thought so too,” she agrees, “I don’t know what’s going on. Just sit tight, peach. We’ll figure it all out, okay? Pizza’s gonna be here soon and Angie brought alcohol.”

Aaron glances at John, who’s tossing back what looks like three shots’ worth of espresso vodka, and Alex, who can’t make his hands work well enough to grasp the bottle. Eliza gently moves the bottle away from him and offers him water instead - not even Monster, which is more deeply horrifying than anything else thus far.

“Somehow, that’s not the most comforting thing I’ve ever heard,” Aaron says.

Pizza, when it arrives, is met with cautious apathy rather than the usual delight. Hercules eats most of one slice and has to stop; Alex crams bite after bite into his mouth methodically, seemingly unaware of what he’s eating. Eliza pulls a slice covered in mushrooms out of his hand and replaces it with pepperoni pizza instead; he doesn’t react at all, although taking food out of his hands is usually enough to cause a meltdown.

Thomas looks from face to face, picking the onions off a slice of vegetarian pizza - onions he’d usually sneak onto Aaron’s plate, onions he leaves on a paper towel on his lap instead. “So, hey, we should do another camping trip,” he says into the thick silence. “With everyone this time.”

“I hate nature,” Peggy snaps.

Thomas goes silent.

Aaron excuses himself and goes to his room. He takes a seroquel and then sits on his bed, waiting for it to kick in. His sheets are in disarray from his time with Thomas; he debates making his bed, smoothing out what he can to ease the discomfort about what he can’t smooth out, and then decides instead to leave it. No point fixing things that are going to be messed up again later anyway.

When he comes back into the living room, his head delightfully fuzzy - like his brain is padded in cotton balls - John clears his throat.

“So, since no one is having a good time,” he says, “I may as well ruin your evening further.”

“It’s not funny, stop joking about it,” Alex mutters.

“I’m not saying it’s funny but I’m not going to mope about it -”

“Jesus, okay, whatever, John, do it your way, I don’t care anymore.” Alex pointedly turns away, closing his eyes.

Aaron stops breathing for a moment. It feels like a hand is seizing his heart and slowly choking it; it thunders desperately in his chest.

Hercules sniffles.

“Anyway, now that that weird little drama is over. I enlisted and basic training is coming up, so I’m shipping out. Like, in a couple days.”

There’s silence for a moment before everyone explodes.

“What do you mean you enlisted?” Angelica snaps, just as Hercules bursts into tears. “You were talking last semester about how fucked up the army is -”

“Are you seriously abandoning Alex while all this shit is getting bad for him?” Teddy snarls.

“I already yelled at him for that, Teddy, it’s no use,” Eliza says wearily. “He doesn’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t care -”

“Fuck you,” Aaron hears, and it takes a moment to realize the words came from him. Thomas takes his hand and squeezes it and he feels brave enough to go on, “did you actually think about  _ anyone _ besides yourself when you enlisted?”

Alex half-stands but his legs don’t seem to support him, so he settles back on the couch instead.

“That isn’t even the worst part,” Eliza says. “Go ahead, John, tell them what the worst part is.”

“I go to advanced training after boot camp and then I get an assignment. I’ve asked to go overseas.”

“So when do you come home?” Hercules asks.

“Maybe never,” John says. His voice is filled with false cheer. “Following in my father’s footsteps. I’m ready to die for my country.”

“Which doesn’t leave room for us anymore, isn’t that right, John?” Eliza asks, and suddenly Aaron realizes - she hasn’t been snuggling between her boys, she’s been shielding Alex.

“There’s a war going on. We all need to make sacrifices,” John says.

No one else speaks. Time draws out into forever.

In the silence, Alex makes a tiny, strangled noise.

And then there’s nothing else.


End file.
